If Credence Went to Ilvermorny - Summer Trials
by TheFlightyFairy
Summary: AU: Ten-year-old Credence Barebone runs away from home and ends up at Ilvermorny School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. There he has to endure trial and prejudice for being what he is, all before the start of the school year. Part tragedy, part feel good, part action, part slice of life, and part court-room drama. The first in a series.
1. Chapter 1: Your Mother

Part 1

Alone in New York

Chapter 1: Your Mother

A stick. That was all it was. But he held it in his hands and stared at it like it was an undetonated grenade. In another place, that could have been true; in Germany, or England, or France. It was a cold summer of 1914. War was blooming.

He glanced around the semi-busy street, as if to see if anyone was watching. Nobody ever was. There were plenty enough small, dark-haired boys on the streets, though not as many of them moved with their heads hung quite so low, swallowed by their shoulders. He tucked the stick inside his inner coat pocket and walked back home with his arms wrapped around his chest to hide that it was there. Not that anybody would have noticed. He was good at hiding things.

In his room, he stashed it among other things under his bed.

The next day it was out again. He stared at it, and held it like it was made of some fragile gold. It was at least eleven inches long, and tapered at the end. No branches. A very specific kind of stick.

"What is that?" gasped a voice from the doorway. He nearly jumped out of his skin.

Chastity stomped in and grabbed at the thing, "Is that a wand, Credence?"

"No!" he insisted, trying to keep it away from her. A scuffle ensued. Chastity's shout could be heard down the hall.

"What's going on here, children?" Mary Lou Barebone, leader of the New Salem Philanthropic Society, suddenly stood in the doorway.

Chastity instantly responded, "Credence has a wand."

"No, it's not, I promise!" he pleaded. Mary Lou's face was a tight line as she advanced on the boy.

He cowered against the wall, "Please..." Her face was stone. She held out her hand.

Hesitantly, he brought out the stick from behind his back and handed it to her. Her eyes widened when she saw it, but for a second nobody moved.

In one quick motion, Mary Lou snapped the stick in half. Both children winced at the _crack!_ Now left were two, fine ends, each with a long, jagged, flat tip. The mother's eyes furiously bared down on her son. He backed up against the wall and whimpered as she advanced on him, her face full of fury. In one hand she grasped the serrated half-stick, the other she held out. Slowly, as if against his will, he put his hands out on top of hers.

 _Slap!_ He screamed. Chastity cowered behind the bedpost. Mary Lou raised the stick and hit her son's hands again. He was shaking all over. Two red lines were already becoming visible crossing his palms.

She raised her arm again. He pleaded with her, "No – please! – I can't – I can't-" but she didn't seem to hear. She brought her arm down, and with the slap there came a horrible rushing sound. Three screams were heard at once, but one seemed to be coming from far away, and was replaced with the sound of roaring. Some massive force exploded out of the wall. Mary Lou stumbled backward, barely avoiding the wind-like energy that came hurtling towards her. It missed her by a hair and tore through the door like it was paper.

"Run!" her mother told Chastity. Chastity ran – tearing through the common room and down the stairs to the kitchen. She hid in a small nook between a cupboard and the door.

Mary Lou got up slowly. Her son was gone. Run out, though she hadn't heard him. In the hall with the banister, there was the sound of tearing and banging, but more than that. It sounded like something was ripping apart the walls. She edged to the doorway. An invisible void was consuming everything, tearing up the floors. Her son was in the middle of it, amid the wreckage that the thing was making, but unharmed. Mary Lou stood frozen. The truth was finally coming to light. Her hand that held the stick clenched into a fist.

The wall was finally naked. Her son shivered as the force, with a last bash, through itself upon him like a hungry dog on discarded steak. It disappeared with the blow and the noise vanished. The boy hugged the floor and gasped in the wreckage. Her magical, destructive son.

The boy saw as an all-consuming rage took the New Salem leader. She didn't yell or scream, but the stick in her hand became a weapon as she brought it down upon him, eyes full of murder. He scampered out of the way just as the stick cracked again on the ground. It broke into splinters. He backed away, eyes wild and terrified. "Don't hurt me," he pleaded.

His mother hardly seemed to see him. Weaponless, she advanced, a glazed look covering her face. "There will be a second Salem..." she murmured, and outstretched her arms.

He bolted, covering the stairs faster than it seemed possible with his small legs. He ran the cupboard where his sister was hiding, terrified, and out the door onto the streets of New York. Mary Lou followed, encumbered by her long skirt. She heard her daughter's whimpering, and stopped.

"Which way did he go?"

"Outside, out the door," Chastity blubbered.

The woman edged towards the opening, a space that let in a square of New York summer daylight. It hadn't closed all the way. She peered through the crack onto the street. A few pedestrians, some tall, brown buildings made of brick, that was all. No small boy. No shadowy magic.


	2. Chapter 2: Out Onto the Streets

Chapter 2: Out Onto the Streets

He never looked back, just kept running, out of the church and into the darkness of the alleys; no particular direction, just running. He never even thought that this was the end of it all, that there was no way he could ever go back to the dreary church in the middle of New York City where he had lived for as long as he could remember. The wand-like stick had condemned him.

Finally, he dropped to his knees in a dark corner and sat there, sweat sticking his dark hair to his face, chest heaving up and down as he clutched it. After a while, the heaving changed from gasps to sobs. He sank against the wall that was covered in decaying posters, and tears ran down his cheeks. It was absolutely quiet; not even the noise of clopping hooves or the occasional motor car could be heard. And there was no one. No one at all.

Days it seemed went on this way. When one is alone, time seems to blend together into one cohesive sensation. Nothing changes, nothing enters. Hunger, thirst, loneliness, weariness, all plodding along together. He lost track of the nights that came, how many times he snatched an item off a window to keep himself sustained, the number of times he considered going back and facing the wrath of his mother just so she could take it all away.

He found a man with a peculiar, two-sided beard hanging up strange posters in a secluded alley. The boy saw the word _circus_ on one, but didn't catch any more before the impresario stepped in front of his work with a nasty mien.

"Oy, what's a No-Maj Freak like you doing out here?" he growled. The boy didn't know what he meant but backed away and trembled as the man edged closer. "Come here, youngin'. I'll teach you where you belong."

The bricks in the stone buildings around them began to shake in their mortar. He grabbed at something inside his coat, "What the –". A drainage grate that was so rusted it barely clung to the ground lifted of its own accord and conked the ringmaster out cold. Posters fluttered to the turf. Dodging around them, the boy caught the other word he had missed: _Circus Arcanus._ He didn't stop to read the rest. Although the truth was he didn't know where he was going, a circus owned by that man would not likely be a place to find a good home. He kept moving. On and on, never coming out in the open, always looking over his shoulder, always heading in one direction – away. Away from New York. Where did away take him? No logical person could have answered that. It seemed that each step was a mile. One moment it would be sunny and humid, and the next moment the wind would blow and he would rap his coat around him for the cold. Direction seemed meaningless. Distance, a myth.

It happened on a stormy day. The rain was the least of his worries, despite it coming down in buckets. He was starving. He was cold. Fear was the only thing keeping him going, and even that was going numb along with the rest of his body. How long had he been alone, in this labyrinthine quilt of locations? He wasn't really alone and he knew it. With all the running, the searching for food, the avoiding of anyone who might see him, he didn't have the energy to ignore it anymore. Something was with him. He had felt it before, many times, especially on those lonely nights when his Ma had punished him. But it was here more than ever. It haunted him. It caressed him. He didn't know if it didn't cling to his very being, as, like many times before, he tried to shake it. But there were other times, when he was wretched with hunger and fatigue and sick of life and its loneliness, the thing would come, and stay unimpeded. If he had known what it was, and how hard he would try to forget that sickening comfort, he might have tried harder. But he was too tired.

The terrain changed that day. It was steep uphill for a while on an unmarked path. The rain filled in his footprints as he climbed. It was a place that might have been beautiful, full of flowers and heather and grass, but it was shrouded with fog. He hardly noticed any of it.

Except the turrets, he noticed the turrets.

The great, salvific statues were what he made for. He didn't think about people seeing him now. The rain poured down as if it wasn't mid-June. It was a miracle he could see at all, but there they were; gray towers poking out of the gloom. A large gate was swung open. The sculptures were of a man and a woman one either side of great, carved doors. As he got closer, he could see windows in the walls, glowing with a sort of orange light. It was warm, something he hadn't really felt for so long. Even through his exhaustion, he stumbled towards it.


	3. Chapter 3: Who Are You?

Chapter 3: Who Are You?

Professor Rocky Hodges never got his dinner. He had been locked up in his office, going over the student records and grade sheets from the previous year. At least, that's what he would say he had been doing. In reality his pen hadn't stirred for almost ten minutes. His eyes were locked on the faded photograph taken just five years before. In it was a man, some might call him old, more tactful people might say middle-aged, with hair then not completely white. Beside him was a woman about the same age, wavy brown hair salt-and-peppering. Three grown girls stood around them, one on the man's right, and two on the woman's left. They all looked a little serious, not moving much, looking at each other, and then back at the camera – except for the girl on the man's left, who grinned openly. However, there was a hint of joy in their looks. The love that brought the family together after so long could be seen. The professor often wondered, looking at the older woman in particular, if there was anything more he could have done to bring the grin of the youngest onto the faces of the rest of them.

At about seven o'clock an elf owl had fluttered in through the window baring a small note that only read, _Eat something, I'll see you there._ There was only one person in all of Ilvermorny who talked to the junior Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher like that.

Professor Hodges was stopped at the bottom of the stairs by one of the secretaries, Solan Nalos. It was one of those very long pieces of parchment that contained a lot of writing but didn't really say much. The man barely slowed down long enough to give it a glance and let his quill, hovering behind him, do the rest. Through his years of teaching at Ilvermorny, he had learned how to skim and sign.

The long, curving stairs ended in one of the many wide open common rooms of the castle. At one end were the king-sized double doors of the entrance. Two men stood, as always, on either side, wands in hand. Looking the other way, down the hall, one might possibly be able to glimpse the Sorting Round, where the statues of the different houses chose their students. Going around it, there were curving measures which eventually led to the dining hall, now mostly empty of wizards or food, seeing that it was June. The cook stayed all year, making food for the teachers who stayed during the summer when the students were not around. She liked to experiment new recipes on them, as a punishment for not leaving to be with their families.

Rocky was a slight exception to the cook's schemes, considering the person who he was going to meet. But he had no sooner appeased Solan Nalos' parchment, than a sound echoed from the outside the double doors. It was not knocking exactly, more like something had pressed against the carved wooden frames. The two guards at the doors looked at each other in confusion, and at Rocky, the only professor in the room. No one had been said to have been coming to the castle that day – or any day, during the summer. When the doors rattled again, Rocky said, "Open it."

The guards obeyed. When the heavy double doors swung open, the harsh wind that had been banished outside suddenly spewed in, followed by the rain. Everyone rubbed their eyes for a second, and when Rocky opened his, he saw what had rattled the door.

A boy, no more than ten or eleven, now stood in the space that was becoming covered in water. His face was hidden with dark, disheveled hair cut around his head. His clothes were worn and ripped. He was thin as a pole. No one said anything for a second, just stared at him. There was some thing not right; an heir of disease and foreboding. It could have very well been the rush of cold air now flying in from the outside, but all suddenly felt as if a cold hand had reached in and stroked at their hearts.

Finally, Rocky spoke, "Who are you?"

The boy looked up slowly, and Rocky couldn't help taking a step back. Those eyes – glowing chasms. There was no color, nothing but bleak whiteness. And they were staring at nothing. Empty, glowing eyes.


	4. Chapter 4: Expecto Patronum

Chapter 4: _Expecto Patronum_

The child's body began to shake horribly. _Something,_ some kind of invisible force erupted outwards, sending him stumbling back. No one could see it, but the large entrance doors knocked back and forth against the force of the wind.

"Shut the doors!" Rocky ordered – starting to put the pieces together. It couldn't be. There weren't any left...

The guards fought to reach the doors against the mighty force that had sent them flying back. Finally the blonde one drew out his wand and they slammed shut.

Rocky felt the turn in energy. The boy hadn't moved – he hardly even seemed to notice to the odd change of weather - but the invisible force had turned its attention. As soon as the doors shut, it billowed out into the entrance room. Rocky and the others were ready for it this time. As it came, the professor focused on the day his first daughter was born and shouted, _"Expecto Patronum!"_

A shape like a giant, misty wolf appeared from his wand and met the cloud of energy in mid-air. They fought; two nearly invisible forces. The wolf rolled and tumbled, clawing at something without form. They spiraled over and over, engulfing half the entrance and sending the wizards leaping out of their way. The invisible thing seemed to be chafing at it. The glow of the patronus seeped away like a real wolf's lifeblood until at last it was barely visible. Professor Hodges lowered his shaking wand as at last it whimpered and disintegrated into the air.

There was hardly a second's respite before two more animals surged on the form; a lion and chupacabra. The guards were putting their training to use. Solan Nalos, the gadabout secretary, had disappeared. The phantom creatures hadn't even reached their target, however, before a great wave of energy sent them flying back, along with the three wizards within reach. As the guards landed hard on the marble floor, their patronuses went out. Rocky stumbled to his feet. There was no doubt now. He knew what this was.

Recovering, blonde guard raised his wand and shouted, _"Stupify!"_ at the mass. The spell hit its target, but didn't seem to have an affect. Rocky saw the boy jolt, as if in pain.

"Shield Charm!" he shouted, just as the second guard got ready to cast another shot. They both nodded, and all three men raised their wands in unison. A pale wall rose from the ground. The invisible thing seemed to realize what was going on too late. It bashed against the force field with all its uncontrolled power. The sound was terrible, like a suffocated roaring. The brilliant light from the shield being hit again and again filled the entrance hall. Finally, with a last flourish, the whirlwind seemed to turn and dive straight into the child, who stumbled back again from the force.

The professor lowered his wand and the wall vanished. He ran forward with the guards and slid on his knees to the spot where the child had sunk to the ground. This was a danger, more dangerous than anything else brought to Ilvermorny School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. And the only thing between himself and it was this small boy shivering in a puddle of water.

"I'll take care of this," he told the guards, grabbed the child's shoulder, and apparated away.

 **A/N: Hello anyone who's reading this! I haven't been doing Author's Notes on the last few chapters, but I thought I might want to start here. First of all, I always have thought seeing an Obscurus/Patronus battle in the Fantastic Beasts movies is a must-have, but until then I have written this to appease myself. Since patronuses, especially against unknowns, haven't been perfectly invincible, I thought that a first encounter against an Obscurus would be too much for one, or three… If you don't know, a chupacabra is a magical lizard found in the United States. I got the way the force field worked from the Fantastic Beasts movie, even though they were used a bit differently in Harry Potter. Anyway, this chapter was pretty short, so I guess I'm trying to make up for lost words. I appreciate reviews!**


	5. Chapter 5: Contain This

Chapter 5: Contain This

Ravina sat alone in the dining hall beside her uneaten apple. There was a commotion by the entrance, and her bright eyes flicked to the wide door. A howl - a roar - the wiz of a stunning spell. As far as Ravina's neck craned she couldn't see beyond the exasperatingly curvy castle walls. Her pointed nose twitched. She was waiting for someone. At last, the noise stopped. The young woman sat at the table in silence until the wand that was sitting next to her fruit began to glow a pulsing blue. She stared for a second, then grabbed it and disapparated.

"Contain this; or everything you know, everyone you love, will die. Do you understand?"

Rocky was bent so that he was eye to eye with the boy who was sitting on the small, dusty bed. He wouldn't meet the sixty-year-old's stare.

" _Daddy,"_ Ravina cautioned. The professor broke off his gaze and followed her around the bed.

"Do you have to be so harsh? Look, he's just a child, and he's obviously been traumatized."

"Do you know what he is?" Rocky answered, a barely contained urgency in his voice. When his daughter didn't say anything, he let out a pained sigh, "He is an Obscurial; the host of a dark force that would make the darkest wizards scream in terror if they were unfortunate enough to meet one. I would have died happy if I had never had the pleasure."

"All the more reason not to frighten him," Ravina insisted.

Her father stared down at her for a long minute before shaking his head and running a hand through his thin, white hair. "You are twenty-three, Ravina, I can't expect you to understand. Obscurials are extinct in America. Any wizard who knows anything on the subject will tell you. We are simply not prepared to deal with a threat like this."

She placed her small hand on his suited arm, "Let me take care of him, alright?"

"I am not allowing my youngest daughter to be alone with _that."_

"He's not a 'that', he's a 'he'."

"The 'he' is not what concerns me. You should have seen what it did at the entrance."

"Well, what do you suggest, throw him back onto the street? In this storm?"

"I know what you are trying to do, but –" he leaned in close, "I don't think you understand how dangerous this is."

She lifted her head, "I understand enough."

"You think so, do you?" he pulled back. "You're a grown up now, Ravina. Do not make me regret treating you like one." With that he left, never looking back at the bed.

Ravina waited until the door was closed before going over there. The boy hadn't moved, not even in expression. It barely looked like he had breathed.

"Hey," she said, circling the bed. "So, what's your name?" He didn't stir, not even an eyelash. Ravina restlessly combed her fingers through her light brown hair like she had so often seen her father do. The words kept playing in her mind. He was usually right about these things. He was the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, trained and petitioned to be an expert in magical threats. But something about this boy... he didn't seem dangerous. Despite what she had said, she didn't remember much about Obscurials. She knew that it involved a dark, magical parasite, but there didn't seem to be anything like that around here. Something in the memory of the brief discussions she'd had left her feeling extremely sad. And that was what this boy reminded her of. Sad, and... scared.

"Do you have a home?" she asked.

He hesitated for a second, then shook his head slightly.

"Nothing? Parents?" He shook his head again.

Ravina's heart swelled, thinking of her mother, who she saw no more, and her father, the somewhat shirty Ilvermorny professor, who nevertheless loved her enough to get her a job. Instinctually, she reached out her hand and touched the boy's pale one. He pulled away quickly, looking pained. "What? What is it?" She grabbed it again though the boy tried to back away. It was a minute's struggle, but finally she managed to turn it over.

It wasn't just red marks. _Lacerations_ would be a better word. Parallel deep cuts tore down the hand, with dirty scabs having formed. Ravina caught the other hand and held it up to compare. The gashes were the same. They aligned perfectly, mirroring like the hand itself.

"Did somebody hit you?" she whispered. The boy's only response was to try and struggle out of her grasp. She held on with one hand, "Wait –" with the other she reached into her blazer for her ivory-colored wand. She drew it out with pride; _Pukwudgie teaches some useful spells._ But when the boy saw it, his eyes widened as big as a house-elf's, and he scrambled away as fast as he could. "What?" Ravina followed him, "I just want to heal your hands." But this didn't seem to comfort him. He stared at the wand like it was a rattlesnake, and sank into the furthest corner of the room. Ravina stopped on the other side of the bed and thought. She had never seen anyone act this way about magic, or a wand. No-Majes might, but the strict American laws kept them from seeing things often. "It's not dangerous, look.

" _Lumos,"_ she said to the wand, and it suddenly glowed like a bright, starry firefly. The boy shrank back even farther from the light. "It can't hurt you," Ravina tried, but she could see it was no use. This child was obviously afraid of magic.

" _Nox."_ A sudden inspiration reminded her of the apple she had left downstairs, uneaten. "I'll be back with some food; would you like that?"

The boy made not a move, but Ravina thought she saw his eyes brighten at the word 'food'.

"Ok, I'll come back," she said, and couldn't help adding, "Don't worry. It'll be alright."

 **A/N: Ok, so I know there's some controversy in how Credence reacted to magic, especially after the Crimes of Grindelwald where he just seemed to accept it. Basically, I picture ten-year-old Credence as being much less experienced with his Obscurus and also less desperate (the reason he didn't kill Mary Lou like in the movie). In the movie, I think he is willing to do just about anything, but when he's younger he hasn't quite gotten to that point and so he still has the strength to be wary. And being an impressionable kid growing up with Mary Lou, some of her propaganda probably leaked through the cracks. Anyway, thanks for reviews! SigalShleifer, I've always thought that fanfiction would be great in movie format, but alas, Hollywood disagrees.**


	6. Chapter 6: How Dangerous This Is

Chapter 6: How Dangerous This Is

It wasn't until she closed the door that the boy moved. His hands un-cupped and he stared at them. Dirty, scabbed, with two thin red lines running across them. Maybe that lady could have healed them, using her _wand_ – it was a wand-like thing that gave these to him in the first place.

His bright eyes traveled over the chair he was leaning against, the wooden desk with the quill pen, the brown bed, the bedside table with an oil lamp he hadn't seen anybody light, and finally stopped on the bookshelf full of thick, mysterious texts. It was at least twice the size of his room at the NSPS, but no – no. He couldn't think about that, not anymore. He had no parent, and no home to send him back to. That was the way it would be. From now on.

Starting now.

A deep shiver gripped him. He could feel the whatever-it-was stirring beneath his skin. That should have remained at home too, with all his other worldly possessions. But it had followed him, and exploded out when he was too weak to stop it. Now these magical people would hate him just as much as the non-magical ones. _Contain this,_ the man had said, _or everything will die._ Contain this was all he had ever done, but he would have to try harder. The past should be submerged forever. Maybe the memory would disappear along with it.

The shivering was really starting to take over now, partly from the horrible last half hour, partly from hunger, and partly because his body was just getting past the point of being numb from the wet and cold. He moved over to the bookshelf and ran his fingers along the titles: _Bestiarium Magicum, The Enclopedia of Bat Eyes, House Elves & Self-Hatred, Curses and Counter Curses... _the list went on. Each title seemed stranger than the last, and it put to rest any remaining doubts.

He had stumbled across the witches.

The boy drew his hand away but remained sitting there in front of the bookshelf, staring. He had found them. They were real. And, like everyone else, they were afraid of him.

No one in the Barebone house had ever been considered 'normal'. Freaks, that's what some people called them. Deluded, obsessed, and other words that he didn't know the meaning of. His ma had never backed down when people shouted those things at her. She never even got angry, just calmly asked them to reconsider their opinion, and left them to their shouting. At home, things were different. _Freak, magic, witch;_ all a synecdoche for _evil,_ always directed at anything unnatural, like the son. He was the freak. He was the one who had to have the strangeness whipped out of him. Chastity was the good child. She would accept Ma's teaching like it was straight out of the Bible. She hummed the Playtime Song anytime she thought anyone was near enough to care, " _My momma, your momma, gonna catch a witch. My momma, your momma, flying on a switch..."_ They had both been taught it when they were old enough, but the boy had never liked it. Something about the words unsettled his bones, made him feel like a trapped animal. Maybe because deep down he knew that she was singing about him, or people like him.

In the kitchen, when they were eight, Chastity had once thrown a dipping spoon to him when he wasn't looking. There mother had been there, overseeing. The boy had flinched when he saw it coming at him out of the corner of his eye, and, like the air had turned to stone around him, the dipping spoon had bounced off and landed with a clatter on the floor. No one had touched it. No one touched it again after that. It was not the first time that sort of thing had happened, and every time it did, the punishment got worse. Ma, with her calm demeanor and oh-so-controlled voice, never failed to let her son know how she really felt when she brought the belt down on his hands. After that it was reading some Puritan composition on the wiles of witchcraft, and probably no supper, depending on if any other such incident had happened in recent memory. The oldest Barebone child would sit in his room, trembling, his hands clutched to his chest. He had never considered himself valorous – or any other good adjective for that matter - but if there was any bravery in him at all it vanished when he looked at his mother. A breeze would rustle his hair and creak the floorboards, but the NSPS banner outside would lay dead. At times he felt like he could feel something... other, lurking somewhere just out of view. At first he just pushed this thought aside. Nothing else was there, that was witch's talk. But every time he did this the feeling grew.

He remembered when the first explosion happened. Ma, for a second, had been absolutely speechless to walk downstairs and see that one of her expensive banners had been clawed to bits, but her shock could never compare with her son's. He had lain in bed that night going through it over and over, trying to make sense of it. Magic it was; raw desecration that had left him feeling weak and powerless. It was unsteerable, emotional, completely bent on destruction. All the paraphernalia that he had read throughout his life on witchcraft came back to his mind. Witchcraft was destructive, it reeked havoc on society. _He_ had reeked havoc on society. She was right, it was evil. It had to be stopped. It had to be feared.

The bedclothes quivered. The boy pulled himself back in. This was not the time. It was in the past. It was over. For better or worse, that was over. He remembered the ivory wand the nice lady had had and shuddered. It had been a cursed object his whole life, the keyhole to a plexus of forbidden things that he had walked right into.

As a distraction, he pulled one of the books off the shelf -

\- And nearly jumped out of his skin.


	7. Chapter 7: Ravina Volunteered

Chapter 7: Ravina Volunteered

Miss Hodges entered without knocking. The boy had been leaning on the bed with his elbows on it, reading a small book. When he heard her, he shoved it away as if it were on fire and clambered against the side wall.

"Hi," she said.

No response.

"Well, I thought you would probably be hungry," Ravina continued, taking a few steps forward, "So I snagged these from the kitchen. Sorry, it's all they had this late." She crouched down, holding out an apple and a banana. The boy followed them with his eyes like they were attached by strings. The last _meal_ he had had was before he ran away, and since then he had been relying on anything that he could snatch; bread outside a window, scraps from the garbage. None of those nibbles ended up sustaining him for very long, and they rarely tasted good. The fresh fruit in the woman's hands called sirenicly.

"Don't be-" Ravina started when he hesitated, but quick as a Zouwo his hand shot out and seized the yellow morsel. He had it peeled and taken a generous bite half before she even realized it was gone. "Don't eat so fast! You'll get a stomachache."

She set the apple down on the bedside table and settled herself in a more comfortable position in her brown pencil skirt. The child eyed her from his corner, munching dutifully. He didn't say anything. Ravina leaned over to see the title of the book that had been left lying on the floor – _House Elves and Self-Hatred._ "Is that good?"

Again, no answer.

She lowered her eyes sadly, "You shouldn't be afraid of me you know. I'm here to help you. My father – he's a little rough around the edges, but he means well... most of the time. You can trust us."

The child stared like she was talking in another language. There was no way of knowing what his background was, maybe he really couldn't understand her. Or maybe he did, but nothing she could say would make a difference. Maybe he had already been too much traumatized.

"I guess I'll leave you then," she said, getting up. "I understand if you want to be alone."

"It moved."

She froze, "What?"

It was the first time the boy had spoken, but he sat still for so long after that she thought she might have imagined it. "What moved?"

"The picture," he finally said, eyes darting down to the book that was lying on the bed.

Trying to contain her relief that this child could in fact speak, Ravina took _House Elves and Self-Hatred_ in her hands and opened the front cover. A shabby looking house elf stared, big eyed, back at her. It blinked a couple of times, then lowered its head in shyness.

"You mean this?" she asked, holding up the photograph. He flinched when the elf's eyes rose to meet his, and shrank farther into the wall. "You've never seen a moving picture?"

He hadn't, by his expression. That could only mean one thing. No child growing up in a wizard family could have gone their whole lives without seeing a wizard picture. "You must be a No-Maj-born then. Neither of your parents were wizards?"

Slowly, he shook his head.

"Oh, you poor thing. You must have felt so alone..." Without thinking, she pulled out her wand and levitated the book back onto the shelf, pausing only at the fearful sound the boy made when he saw it. "Oh, sorry," she hastily put the magical tool away. "I forgot. They must have not liked these where you used to live, did they?"

The sad eyes downcast was all she got, but Ravina tried again with, "What's your name?"

The wand and elf seemed to have shut the child up like a box, and he didn't respond with more than a nod to her continued proddings. Finally, she gave up and left the room, promising to be back early in the morning, and prognosticating many hours of unfulfilled questions. The boy kept his head low until she had closed the door. Habit, really. After finishing the banana and inhaling the apple he sat in his corner staring longingly at the bed. It would be such a relief to sleep on a mattress again... But he remembered those terrible nights in his own bed, waking up and finding – no, in the past. That was before, and now it had been time out of mind since he had felt anything soft. Still, maybe he wouldn't go to bed just yet. Wait till the clawing in his chest died down.

He wrapped his arms around his legs and buried his head in his knees.

 **A/N: I realize I skipped the Author's Note last chapter. There wasn't really anything to say. This is the last chapter for a couple where we actually see Credence, so enjoy his miserableness while you can.** _ **House Elves & Self-Hatred **_**is actually a book in the Wizarding World written before 1914, as were all the other books listed in Chapter 6. I thought it fitting that that would be the one he would pick up. I love your reviews!**


	8. Chapter 8: An Obscurial Came to Our Door

Chapter 8: An Obscurial Came to Our Door

"Where can I find a book on Obscurials?"

The tired-looking librarian raised her eyes to Ravina as if to say, _Why are you bothering my soul with your random questions?_ At her expectant face she blinked slowly, then took out her wand and flipped through a index about as large as a Webster's dictionary while speaking, "Hon, you don't have to be in such a hurry this late at night. Anything you ain't read can wait a few hours, I'm sure. It's not like there ain't two more months of summer."

"I need it now," Ravina insisted.

"If you say so," the librarian looked down at the page her index had landed on. "Let's see...Ob...Obliviation... Obscurial. Don't look like too much. Everything is down in the Restricted Section. We haven't taught about them to normal students since the incident of '95."

Ravina took the parchment containing the list of books the librarian handed her, "What was the incident of '95?"

"Look it up. It's probably in the yearbook. I'm sure you can find the way." As soon as she had said her piece, the librarian closed her eyes and fell back to her half-asleep position like a wind-up doll.

"Um, thank-you," The young woman sped-walked as fast as her pencil skirt would allow to the clamped shut, jaw-like shelves at the very darkest, most back part of the library. As if the words 'Restricted section' were not enough. She muttered the incantation to let herself in and stood, suddenly hesitant, before the shelves. They reached twenty feet easily, too many books for any mortal to read even if they spent their life trying. Not that she could see most of them. The high bookcases were locked tight together.

Ravina was almost about to be cowed – _this is why I'm not a Horned Serpent,_ she remembered – and had taken two unconscious steps backward.

 _He needs me though._

That thought stopped her tracks.

He needed her to help him. No one had ever really needed her before. She had always been the needy, the youngest, the drifter of the family.

" _Accio Dark Arts of Magical Maladies,"_ she said, _"Accio Magical Parasites and Who They Attack, Accio You Thought It was a Lethifold..."_

The catacombs rumbled awake as first one and then another shelf broke away from the rest and books tumbled through the cracks.

"I hope there's a good reason for this emergency meeting, Professor Hodges."

"There is, I assure you." Rocky dryly observed the handful of professors as they finished filing into the room. "You all love dividing moral issues at 8 pm on a summer evening, don't you? I know I do. The kind that start arguments and then trials where – "

" _Roger,_ " The woman at the head of the table said. Rocky flinched. "I trust everyone here would like to know exactly what you're getting at?"

"Yes, Professor Blygull." He cleared his throat. "I trust everyone heard the commotion in the Entrance Hall about half an hour ago?" There were murmurs of assent and some quizzical looks. Rocky took a deep breath, "The facts are this: an Obscurial came to our door. I fought it with Dawson and Valadez and we barely came out with our lives."

This received a lot more than murmurs. The small room broke into a series of shouts and accusations.

"Obscurials don't exist anymore! Not in America!"

"This Defense Against the Dark Arts stuff is going to your head, Rocky."

"Do you have any proof that it was an Obscurial?"

Amid the protests and questions Rocky raised his hands for quiet. "I know the general belief is that they are extinct; actually that's more or less what I thought until half an hour ago. But an invisible tornado that can whither a patronus is not incredibly common in the wizarding world if any of you have not noticed, so I was forced to face the truth, however improbable. I have studied Defense Against the Dark Arts for a long time, and I have never met a creature that I could not overcome with spells or tactics, but this one had to go back into its host of its own accord. I took the boy to a guest room running the balcony. My daughter Ravina volunteered to look after him, though I'm not sure she understands the danger –"

"Danger, Roger?" Professor Blygull said. She was wrinkled and white-haired, but still claimed her seat with a queenly manner. "You gave an unstable, dangerous child a guest room at my school?"

"Believe me, it was necessary. I had to do something to prevent worse from happening."

"So what you're saying is that in _my_ school, under _my_ roof is a danger compared to an out of control Dark Wizard?"

"It is never as simple as that when it comes to this sort of thing," Rocky objected, "Obscurials do not control their Obscurus, it is true, or at least that is the general consensus. And the Obscurus is generally bent on destruction, but –"

"You still haven't given any _actual_ evidence that it is an Obscurus." Professor Hodges faced the witch who had just spoken. She was young. Her brown hair was cut short, and it mirrored in color her eyes, which locked with the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher's in defiance.

He copied her gaze, "Any alternative theories, Ro?"

"One. It's hoggery. Everyone in this room knows you would do anything to make yourself the hero in any situation, even if it means making a problem bigger than it is."

"Laren –"

"I am a professor!"

"Right, _Professor_ Ro. I was just going to ask, could you tell me the exact difference between an Obscurial and an Obscurus?"

The young woman's gaze never faltered, but her expression soured, like the question was a fruit that had gone over-ripe.

Rocky hid a smile, "The Obscurial is the host, Professor, and there's one staying two floors down, so I suggest you save your temerity for the Transfiguration students in September?"

"He can't stay here," Piped up one of the Divination teachers, Professor Luckey. "You not suggesting that, Rocky? The signs for the last month –"

"Completely out of the question," added Professor Deer, the other Divination teacher.

"I know what everyone is thinking, but what I was _going_ to say is that I don't think there's much more we can do. We can't turn him out onto the streets. His Obscurus would run wild, maybe even exposing the Wizarding World in the process. We can't hand him over to MACUSA because they face the exact same problem we do, except on a larger, more legal scale. We can't send him back where he came from because that would just make the Obscurus problem worse – not that we even know where he lived, he won't talk to us."

"So you _are_ suggesting he stay here?" Blygull confirmed.

"I'm saying," Rocky said quietly, "That we have no other choice."

The stony silence in the room seemed to wrap up everyone's feelings and release their disapproval into the air. Finally, Professor Blygull stood up, said that the meeting was over, and dismissed the other professors. Murmurs and grumblings summed up the night as they went out. Rocky could especially feel the eyes of Professor Ro on him as she left the meeting.

 **A/N: Now might be a good time to mention that I picture Rocky as George Peppard as he was in** _ **The A Team**_ **with the voice of Nicolas Cage. And if anyone can pick up on the** _ **Star Trek**_ **reference in the second part of the chapter, I will give them a shout out. The books that Ravina finds on Obscurials are not from the canon, I made them up, seeing as there aren't any books on Obscuruses that we know about (excluding Obscurus Books). Please review!**


	9. Chapter 9: Just Comes With the Territory

Chapter 9: Just Comes With the Territory

Half an hour later Ravina was learning that very little was known about Obscurials.

The night had come in, slow but sure. It brought a kind of empty openness to the forbidden cavern, something you could get lost or swallowed in and nobody would ever know. Every two seconds, Ravina would swear she could hear something and lift her wand in a hurry, but it was only the creaking of the movable shelves settling back into their place. Perhaps they were reminding her that a few years ago she wouldn't have even been allowed to be here, and was researching something that was banned from general student knowledge. But this was not a time for students. Only certain faculty remained who had no one to go back home to. The library was empty for the summer, except for the sleeping librarian, and the Restricted Section was a regular phantom playground. _I am so glad we don't have ghosts like they do at Hogwarts,_ the girl thought. Then considered that it might be a bit relieving to have something to blame all the creakings on, and maybe give the library some more glow. Ravina's small wand-light couldn't have illuminated anything farther than two yards.

 _It's the stuff you're reading, it's making you jumpy,_ she told herself, and went back to the small volume by Scaringe McPhee: _Magical Parasites and Who They Attack_.

" _An Obscurus is the very soul embodiment of a magical parasite."_ The page read, " _It is formed when a child suppresses his or her magic to avoid punishment, persecution, or because of a traumatic event."_

She paused, then reread the last bit several times. Punishment, persecution, or traumatic event. Thinking back to the deep cuts on the boy's hands it seemed safe to assume that this Obscurial was caused by punishment.

At the bottom of the page there was a photograph of a black, cloud-like mass tearing up what looked like an old fashioned house. It was only about the size of a large pillow. The picture was old and a little blurry, but something about it gave the intense feeling of... what was it? Anger, maybe? No, it went deeper than that. Fear. That was it. Raw, shredding fear. It seemed to seep through the page into her hands; traveling up her arms and squeezing her chest. She had seen fear like this once before recently; in the Obscurial's eyes.

" _Because the Obscurus has become so rare since the invention of the photograph, only one picture of a corporeal Obscurus has ever been recorded. This was taken at the now-destroyed amphiscian home of an unknown wizard family, 1888."_

Ravina jumped again as the book cases groaned. Perhaps it was time to quit. The night was roberant, and though there was no need to be guilty, the restricted volumes seemed to inculpate her somehow. The last clicks of her heels left the lonely corner as it had been; guarded, uninviting.

When the meeting room was almost completely empty, Rocky spoke again to Professor Blygull, "Seeing as I have not yet been publicly humiliated for my lapse in judgment, I assume there's more?"

She ignored him, stood, and began to pace behind her chair. "You assure me that MACUSA is not a better option than a school which houses hundreds of vulnerable children, not to mention faculty, every year?"

"If I trusted MACUSA any more than the people at Ilvermorny to handle this situation," the man said, "Trust me, the boy would already be gone."

The headmistress inclined her head slightly. As if to agree out loud would be treasonous even if it was true. Rocky waited while she paced some more, the end of her long, black gown suspended magically above the floor. "Do Obscurials normally cause fatalities?" she finally asked.

Professor Hodges corrected, "The _Obscurus_ has been known to cause death, one way or another, usually exclusive to No-Majes, but that just comes with the territory. An Obscurial must be abused or punished for their magic, so the magic naturally lashes out at the source of pain, and anything that happens to be near it."

"You think it would not lash out at us if we did not cause it pain?"

"There is no way to guarantee that. Professor Blygull, I like this about as much as you do."

After about a minute of pacing, the old witch stopped, and faced him with a resigned look on her face, "I see no other way."

"I certainly wish I did."

" _But,"_ she continued, "If he injures or kills one wizard under my roof, I do not care about Obscurials or Obscuruses or whatever the difference may be. He will pay for it."

"I never expected anything less," Professor Hodges said.

She broke her gaze, "I'll trust you to pass the message on to your daughter. You can go now," she added. The professor nodded, turned on his heel, and disapparated.

 **A/N: I made up the name Saringe McPhee as well as the book** _ **Magical Parasites and Who They Attack.**_ **Also, does anyone know how to make those lines that separate different parts of chapters? They always disappear when I try to do them. Please review!**


	10. Chapter 10: The Most Basic Wizard Tool

Chapter 10: The Most Basic Wizarding Tool

"The most basic wizarding tool of all time," Rocky began, but stopped in consideration and changed tactics, "A wizard, you know, is someone who is born with magical abilities. I am a wizard. I assume that you're a wizard. My daughter over there is a witch, which is basically the same thing. Your magic is a bit different than ours, though."

The child's face, previously close to curious, flinched at the words 'witch' and 'your magic'. He set down the rhubarb muffin that had been indispensible a minute ago.

"Now, I don't know what they told you where you come from," Rocky continued, pausing in case the child wanted to volunteer information. He didn't. "But here, everyone is magical, no one is punished for it, and everyone has one of these." From inside his suit coat pocket, Rocky withdrew a long, black, baton-looking thing with a tiny, gold handle on the end. "You know what this is, don't you?"

"A wand," the boy whispered, as if saying it too loud would cause the object to bite him. The muffin and bacon Ravina had brought seemed to have loosened his tongue a little, though there were still shadows under his eyes, and she sometimes doubted how much he had actually slept. But he was answering consistently with more than silence which was definitely a step forward.

"That's right. And this one is mine, so I'm the only one who can use it correctly. Here," Rocky extended a hand towards the boy, who hesitated. _He looks innocent today,_ a warning voice whispered, _but he's still an Obscurial, still dangerous._ When the child finally reached forward though, it was Rocky who drew his back, "Sweet Merlin..."

"I forgot to tell you," Ravina said apologetically. Before the boy could move away, the teacher grabbed one of his skinny wrists and examined the hand.

"Who did this to you?"

"No one!"

"Then how did this happen?"

The boy seemed to struggle for an answer, "It... it just did."

"Yeah, right," The professor grabbed his wand which had slipped to the floor.

"I already tried," Ravina said as the child struggled with her father, but Rocky had a much stronger grip than his young daughter. In a matter of seconds, the rips in the boy's hands had vanished, like they had never existed.

Rocky released his vice-grip, "You see, magic can be used for good, believe it or not."

The child stared, stupefied, at his own palms. Then a confused look appeared on his face "It... doesn't destroy everything?"

The Defense teacher hesitated and glanced at his daughter, who was looking suddenly very worried. This had been coming, and they both knew it. "Young wizards' magic is out of control, naturally, until they learn to use it. Sometimes destructive things are done, without them meaning to. Dark wizards are what we call those who do magical harm _on purpose._ It is something that takes years of practice to do right. Of course in some cases..." He stopped when he realized the appraising looks he was giving the young boy were only intensifying his expression of anxiety. "We train young wizards here to be good. Most are, you know. For the most part, anyway. I think everyone is entitled to his moments." He flicked the wand towards Ravina and her mouth, which had been about to say something, snapped shut.

Whatever the words might have been true, it didn't seem to comfort the boy, who had begun peeling the crumbs off his muffin. There were two sides to every story. He had seen the one; New Salem Philanthropic Society. And now, suddenly, there was another; _wizards trained to be good_. But the dots didn't fully connect. The thing stirred in his chest – a third side.

"Any questions?" Rocky asked, sensing the road this child's mind was on. It wouldn't be long now –

He still hesitated, "Just..."

"Yes?" the man prodded.

"Is there something wrong with me?"

The words were barely a whisper, but that was enough. The old man sighed, ignoring his daughter's shaking head, "I'm afraid there is."

The explanation took some time. The child knew nothing about 'dark, parasitical magical forces'. Fortunately not much explanation was really needed on what an Obscurus was. He already knew.

Ravina watched the exposition with sealed lips. How did he endure it? Being told, at such a young age, that he was set apart among wizard-kind to be the what-you-could-have-been. His kind were the ghost stories witch mothers told their children. His monster under the bed could kill him, and everyone around.

She saw him slowly retreat back into himself.

Rocky seemed to notice it too. He leaned forward in the chair, "Now you see, maybe, why you need to – why this _has_ to be contained? There is no way to stress it enough."

The boy nodded mutely. Ravina wasn't sure if it was a reflex or if the seldom heard concern in her father's voice had actually pierced his hearing.

Rocky, stoicism restored, got up to leave the room. On the way out he whispered, "It had to be done," in response to his daughter's accusing look.

She followed him out and waited until the Silencing Spell had been lifted. "But now? And why do you always have to be so blunt?"

He stared at her, almost pityingly, "'And ye shall know the truth, and the truth shall make you free.'"

"He's just a child!"

"I know it might not look like it now," the professor contended, "But you will be glad we didn't wait. He has to know what he is."

She considered. "Just promise me one thing."

"Depends."

"Promise we won't tell him how young they die."

The professor looked thoughtful. "Wouldn't you want to know if the thing inside you could kill you?"

She shook her head, "It would be too much."

"Alright" he said, "But only because you let me silence you..."

She went back in as he attempted to dry his tears from being seen, but she saw them. The young woman knelt down to be near his shaking body as he whimpered, "I don't want to be a monster."

 **A/N: Yes, this was the Credence-finds-out-that-he's-an-Obscurial scene that we never got in Crimes of Grindelwald. But hey, that's what fan fiction's for. I figured Credence would be especially sensitive to wands considering how against them Mary Lou was, and due to his lack of exposure to the Wizarding World. The passage Rocky quotes is John 8:32, I figured he was the type to quote Scripture. I love reviews!**


	11. Chapter 11: Keep the Problem at Bay

Chapter 11: Keep the Problem at Bay

"Now, I don't want to give credence to any rumors, but – what?"

"That's my name."

" _Dear Eartha, it's your sister at Ilvermorny. Someone came to school and everyone thinks he's dangerous –"_

"Do whatever is necessary. Turn that Obscurial into a wizard."

" _...we all know he's magical, but I've never seen him do anything. He doesn't know about the Wizarding World. He's like a No-Maj."_

"Stop it – please! Go away!"

" _Daddy and I are worried. He's too good at being an Obscurial."_

"You're alright with moving pictures now; you don't have a panic attack whenever I apparate; I can say the word 'magic' without you flinching; so why can't you _do_ a little magic, already? It doesn't hurt to try."

" _...if he keeps suppressing his magic, he could die..."_

"We're all going to die! Watch what happens when you let things like that into Ilvermorny."

" _I know he wants to know about us. I can't imagine he_ wants _to be afraid..."_

"No. Absolutely not."

"Laren -"

" _Professor Ro_ to you, sir. I'm not your student anymore, why can nobody remember that?" The woman stalked off from Professor Hodges, sending a whirl of grade-books and lists magically rearranging themselves in her wake. "If you can excuse me please, I'm very busy right now."

Rocky picked his way around the flying papers, "It's June, Ro."

"I use the summer to get ahead."

The man sighed. Talking to this witch was no duck soup, and he knew it, but getting her to do a favor for him would be like guzzling a glass of Skele-Gro. "I know we don't usually give them out until the school year starts, but this is a special case –"

"Special like letting a thunderbird loose in the middle of a hurricane."

"He's not a beast, he's a wizard," Rocky said, realizing he was starting to sound like his daughter.

"You're completely certain of that?" She stopped pacing around her office and faced the man in defiance, "Has he done anything magical since getting here? He could be a squib for all we know."

" _He's an Obscurial,"_ Hodges said through gritted teeth, "You can't be an Obscurial without having magic to suppress."

"You're completely convinced then?"

Rocky glared at her, "You would be too."

The papers fluttered to their spots, leaving empty space between the two professors. Rocky didn't let up on his gaze. The younger was contemplating answering with one just as deadly, and looking the professional. She chose the latter. "It's not just the magic, _especially_ if it's an Obscurial we're dealing with. Wands are catalysts. They do strange things to magical ability. They hone it, make it more focused, and stronger. That's their job. For all we know the wand could act as a channeller for the Obscurus."

"But if we do nothing the problem will only get worse," Rocky insisted. "You can believe what you want, but the Obscurus already exists, and there is nothing either of us can do to change that. The only thing we can do is try and keep the problem at bay. Professor Blygull told me to make a wizard out of an Obscurial, and like it or not, that is what I have to do. And the only way I know how to do that is to start at the beginning. Now, if you want to stand by and wait for him to become a better Obscurial, and possibly rip this school from its foundations, then daydream all you want. I could even ship a house-elf over the Atlantic for you so you do not have to organize your own papers, which are out of date by the way –" he flicked his wand and grabbed a form off the desk with it. "-1911, who were you trying to fool?"

"I get the picture, Professor Hodges," Laren said icily.

He leaned forward, "All I need is one wand. And before you say anything, I think you should remember that it was not me who petitioned to teach him. And maybe I don't have the ability to give you a direct order, but I know a headmistress who can."

The way her mouth twitched, you would have thought she was being presented with Devil's Snare and being told to eat it. Rocky didn't back down, until her gaze shifted away from his eyes.

"Fine. But I'm going to be there."

 **A/N: Man, this chapter was pretty hard for some reason. Probably because it's mostly dialogue and… I don't like dialogue. I did enjoy showing the dynamic between Rocky and Professor Ro though. It's always nice to write a conversation between two characters who hate each other. As far as what Ro said about a wand channeling the Obscurus, in the TCOG screenplay it mentioned that when Credence got his wand he was able to channel the power of the Obscurus for the first time. I realize Credence was not in this one (mostly), but he will be in the next one. Please review!**


	12. Chapter 12: Interesting

Chapter 12: Interesting

The wand-sorting room stretched in leviathan style, spinning in a maze of pedestals, lighted low with torches which reflected off of the jewels and glass on the walls and pedestals themselves, so it looked like an underwater treasure trove. The walls themselves bent in ways that made you sick if you looked at them too long. And maybe, it had occurred to some, that they did actually move. It _was_ a magical castle.

"Who's that?" the boy whispered nervously to Ravina as she guided him into the great room.

The witch saw what had unnerved him about the young woman who stood next to her father. Her arms were folded, and she seemed oblivious to the splendor or anything else for that matter except the newcomer who slunk behind Ravina's jacket. "That's La – Professor Ro. She teaches Transfiguration and heads the wand-sorting."

The boy peeled his eyes from Laren and for the first time seemed to take in the labyrinth of stands containing their individual treasures, "Sorting?"

"Yes. Usually everyone does it together, but you-" Ravina cut off, wondering how the explanation might sound. "-You're special."

They reached the other two. Professor Hodges' frequent sidelong glances and out-of-hearing mutterings showed exactly how happy he was about Professor Ro being there.

"That's the Obscurial, I presume?" She said when they got close enough to be within hearing. The child flinched as if the word stung. Ravina hugged her arm more firmly around him and even Rocky had the grace to look disapproving, but Ro pretended not to notice. "He can go on," she told Ravina.

The young witch rearranged her face from its death-gaze before turning back to the child. "It's ok, just go and look around."

The boy hesitated before the vast array of wands and weirdly bent architecture, "How will I –"

"The wand will let you know," Laren Ro interrupted, "You'll feel it. Usually when you pick it up it will glow or spark or something. You couldn't miss it."

With an encouraging push from Ravina, the boy stepped out among pedestals.

"He's smaller than I thought," commented the professor once he was out of earshot. In fact, now that she saw him, he looked worn-through, almost transparent. His head hung low, causing his dark hair to partially hide some rather piercing eyes. He was skittish, and seemed to jump at any misplaced sound.

"Not the killing-machine you were imagining?" the younger witch replied frostily.

"Ravina..." her father warned.

Laren ignored them both, "No. I was imagining something quite different." Seconds of silence elapsed, each adult watching the Obscurial's progress throughout the maze. Finally she asked, "What's his name?"

"Credence." Rocky answered, feeling the full weight of the irony. In onomastics, credence was the very definition of belief. Laren had none.

"Something's happening," the wizard commented. The two women saw that the Obscurial had stopped in the middle of one of the rows. Rocky and Ravina didn't hesitate. They followed the path around the twisted jeweled stands the direction the boy had followed. Laren hung back.

"So it's true," she murmured.

The stick his ma had run him out of the house for apparently should never have worried her. Real wands were a thousand times more magical. Poking around, avoiding pedestals and walls that seemed to come from nowhere, wondering what the woman had meant by _You'll feel it_ , the boy suddenly halted in his tracks. A stand was right in front of him. Its attractancy was like a magnet, pulling him closer.

The wand looked nothing like that stick he had picked up what felt like ages ago; darker and carved. He felt the wooden base, picked it up – and instantly dropped it again.

"Just grab it, it's not going to bite," the female professor said as she sidled up behind the two Hodges.

At a nod from Ravina, the child hesitatingly reached out again and took hold of the wand. The whole room brightened slightly. Was it just more tricks of the light, or did the wand glow, for just an instant, when the boy's fingers touched it?

Professor Ro bent down to gaze at the inscription on the pedestal from which the wand had come, "Well that's interesting."

"What is?" Rocky asked, looking at the pedestal as well, and then comparing the wand in the boy's hands. _10 ½ inches, oak wood, rougarou hair core._ "Oh... interesting."

"Is there something I don't know?" Ravina questioned, but they both ignored her. Professor Ro straightened up.

"Convinced yet?"

She eyed Mr. Hodges, measuring the chances that his words hid a gloat inside them. "For now. I think I've seen all I need to see." She turned around and disapparated.

As soon as she was gone the boy seemed to find his voice again, "What's wrong with it?"

"Nothing..." Rocky said slowly, skimming the pedestal engraving again. "The core is just – I'll need to do some research." He made an attempt to smile, "It fits you."

Ravina couldn't make out the sidelong glance he gave her before likewise disappearing from the room.

She turned to the child, hiding her befuddlement, "Can I see that?"

He seemed to come out of a reverie, giving it to her. The witch smiled. She remembered the first day she got her ivory-sculpted wand. This one was short and nearly black. The most unique thing about it was the wave-like carvings that ran the entire length of the wand, like cracks of bark on an old trunk. They were haphazard, yet flowing. Smooth, yet clawing. What did that remind her of?

"Oh," she said, "Interesting."

 **A/N: So I am admittedly not an expert on how wands respond to wizards when they first get them, but this seemed like how Harry's wand worked sort of (less dramatic than the movie, but I'm not sure what happened there). About the actual wand of Credence's: I was thinking about changing the way it looked after seeing the wand he gets in The Crimes of Grindelwald, but then I thought that that was one G made for him, not necessarily one he would have gotten under normal circumstances. I think it would have been a different sort of wand had it not been given to him. I chose rougarou hair for the core because that was the core of President Piquery's wand and it is said to take to Dark Magic. For Credence, I thought that would be, well, interesting. Please review!**


	13. Chapter 13: Wingardium Leviosa

Chapter 13: _Wingardium Leviosa_

"There is nothing wrong with your wand," Rocky said – again. There didn't seem to be any getting around this explanation. "It's fine, just fine. The core was what caught out attention – which there is nothing wrong with either," he added before the boy could speak. "Wands with that core... have a sketchy history, you could say. But first rule about learning magic, the wand does not define your magic. It fits _you_. You do not fit _it_. You would not believe the number of students I have had that blame their lack of excellence in my classes to a faulty wand.

"Now, enough with excuses." Rocky stood up from his reclined position and leveled his wand at the boy, who climbed to his feet. "Learning magic is much more than just having the ability. Do you have your wand? Alright. Now, witches and wizards have to memorized many different spells in order to accomplish different types of magic." He ignored the slight flinch of the boy's at the word 'witches', "First Years learn the easiest ones, like _Reparo,_ and _Petrificus Totalus,_ and this –" he turned on the spot, waved his wand at a sheet of parchment he had lain on the bed, and said, _"Wingardium Leviosa."_ Instantly, the parchment rose and fluttered about a foot over where it had been. The professor flicked the wand lazily, and the paper began to circle the room as if being held aloft by a very steady breeze.

The boy watched, looking awed, and somewhat nervous, "Do I have to do that?"

"Well, the levitation part." Rocky set down the paper with a twitch of the wrist. "Remember the words to the spell: Win- _gar-_ dium Levi- _o-_ sa."

"Right now?" There was a hint of panic in his voice.

"Yes."

The ten-year-old reached into his new coat pocket and drew out the wand. He pointed it, aim unsteady like a snowbird stepping out onto the ice, _"Wingardium Leviosa."_

Nothing. Not even a flutter.

The professor groaned, "It's not enough just to _say_ the words. You have to want to do it. You have to _use_ magic."

"But I _don't_ want to."

"Do something strange," Chastity had said. She was Ma's pet, but she was on to her brother.

"I can't."

"Yes you can. I saw you with the cup a few weeks ago."

"No, I _did_ touch it, you just didn't see me."

"What about the spoon?"

"It wasn't me, I'm serious."

"And the banner? I didn't do it, and Ma didn't do it..."

He was beside himself, "It wasn't me."

"Then who was it?"

"It wasn't me, please!"

And there it went. The lack of control. Ma never learned how all the windows in the kitchen shattered or who did it. Chastity could be bribed to silence, but not forever. Her brother was swallowed into a void; his family on the watch, like vultures. Somehow they never noticed the hollow, consuming fire.

But this was a different milieu. And with an actual wand this time maybe, just maybe, it wouldn't happen again.

And oh, how he did desperately want to.

The boy pointed his wand at the parchment once more, and said in a voice more forceful than any Rocky had heard before, _"Wingardium Leviosa!"_ His wand flashed. Instantly, the parchment shot up in the air as if it had been punched from below, ascending straight up like a firework until it met and plastered itself to the ceiling. At the same time, the entire bed that it had been sitting on rose up a foot off the ground and levitated – until thudding back down like a six-by-four boulder. Both stared, dumbfounded. "Merlin's beard..." Rocky murmured.

Suddenly, the child gasped as if the air had been knocked out of his lungs. The professor looked quickly over to see him slump against the bed. His face twisted and strained as if in pain. "What is it? What's wrong?" Rocky drew his wand. The child's body began to shake of its own accord, as if something was rattling it from the inside. The parchment dropped.

A violent force pushed its way out of the shivering body and flew at the professor. _"Protego!"_ he shouted, and the Obscurus rebounded off the charm. _"Baubilious!"_ It lit up with the white light of his wand. The boy screamed in pain. Rocky started, taken aback.

While the professor was distracted, the Obscurus gathered itself. It zoomed throughout the room, crashing into walls, overturning anything it could, sending everything tumbling and whirling. It bounced off the shield Rocky had made for himself, and at last headed straight back from whence it came. The child jerked as his body was once again filled with the crazed essence.

Rocky stood above, still shell-shocked by his discovery, but for once completely at a loss for words. It was the Obscurial that spoke first. "It always happens," he said, voice like something shattered, "Every time. It always comes, it just... explodes." He drew a shuddering breath.

Rocky bent down on one knee to be on level with the boy. "I don't know if you understand of what magisterial importance it is that this power be contained."

"I'm trying," the boy said, "I just can't –"

"You _will_ learn magic," Rocky interrupted, the tiniest bit of desperation outlining his voice, "You have to. Your Obscurus is only going to grow worse. It is only going to get stronger. You think it is hard to control now? Wait until it gets so strong that it –" he halted. He had been about to say _that it kills you,_ but he remembered his promise to Ravina. " –that it makes you too unsafe. We can't keep an Obscurial behind our walls forever. _The school_ needs you to learn magic, Credence."

He waved his wand, and the room began to mend itself – like a phantasmic beast had not just been there turning it inside out. The boy watched as the last of the quills on the small desk returned to its original place. He let the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher help him up. "What do you say?" Rocky asked.

 **A/N: Ok, so with the new release of The Crimes of Grindelwald we get to see Credence's first** _ **in-canon**_ **go at magic with a wand, and it's pretty cool, I'll admit. But first of all, the power there is pretty raw, and he didn't use a spell, so really it was just pure magic going** _ **splat**_ **on the mountainside. Now, in Fantastic Beasts the First, the two times we see Credence do something magical, the Obscurus is seen right after. Coincidence? In the Crimes of Grindelwald, credits role too quickly, so I still say my theory stands. Also, I realized that in all these Author's Notes I have forgotten to mention that I picture 10-year-old Credence as a young Asa Butterfield with an American accent. The cover kind of gives it away, but thought it was worth saying. Please review!**


	14. Chapter 14: Nightmares are Like Boggarts

Chapter 14: Nightmares are Like Boggarts

Despite their heightened activity, the days appeared to have added hours to themselves. June seemed to last at least a fourscore of days, but maybe things were just progressing that slowly. It might have been the weariness of defensive spell after defensive spell being cast all day while trying to teach their Obscurial magic. He was right. Each wave of his wand seemed to come with its own mini-battle, the Obscurus glorying in the open flow of magic. The Defense professor eventually had to call on his daughter to calm the child down – which led to her proctoring every future magic session. Ravina wasn't tough like her father. She'd barely passed the Boggart-Banishing exam in Third Year after one sight of that hungry acromantula. But to this dark force, at least, she was blind. The Obscurial she could whisper to and cut a rampage in half even if it caused her father to turn his eyes to high heaven. Just being there seemed to help. Rocky was never sure what the secret was, but whatever she did for the troubled protégé, it worked.

If there had been doubt about keeping an Obscurial at school, no one, not even Laren Ro, could discount his adeptness at wizardry. The DADA professor would relate to impressed ears all that he could accomplish while not quaking on the floor, which went beyond anything any First Year had displayed in his whole career of teaching. The ten-year-old was a natural at magic; though the anticipation of Obscurus outbursts still caused him to be timid about using it. Professor Hodges secretly worried if he was still intentionally still holding it back, but he said nothing at first. Ravina wondered about it too, but the days wore on, painfully, and she and her father had enough to think about.

His body tightened. The color drained from his face until it was ashen as the mare of the moon while it contorted in strain. His hand dropped the wand as it was overcome by trembling.

"Here," Ravina helped him onto the foot of the bed. Sometimes if he could be calmed down quick enough the Obscurus could be subdued before an all-out battle began.

He grabbed a few gasps before apparently regaining enough control to speak. It wasn't the first time this question had come out. "Why are you helping me?"

She smoothed down his dark hair that had grown a little out of the bowl-cut since his arrival. "Because you need it."

"No one else ever helped me before."

The witch bit back her sorrow. The boy hardly ever spoke of his former life. The little she had heard made it sound like he had escaped a lion's den. "What did they do to you?"

"Ma hit me," he said, twisting his hands together to control the shuddering. "She'd make me take off my belt and hit me with it."

Ravina stared, remembering the lines on the boy's hands when he had first arrived. So that was the truth.

The child spoke again. His words came tumbling out as if they had been behind a dam for years and it was beginning to crumble. "I couldn't help it. I kept _doing_ things, like the cup, and the windows. Ma made me stop, but it got so strong – and it hurt. I just wanted it to go away. But it always came back, it was always there. It never left... But then it wanted me to do things. It wanted to hurt Ma, and Chastity. I didn't want to hurt them! But it told me –"

"Wait, slow down," Ravina interrupted. She knew she probably shouldn't interrupt the boy when he was giving the names of people in his family, but the shock had knocked that out of her brain. "How did you know what it wanted? Does it... does it talk to you?"

The child hesitated, furrowing his brow, "No... I don't think so. I just know things that it wants. It hates everything, except –" he stopped abruptly.

"Except what?"

He shook his head and went on like he hadn't heard. "I tried not to think about it, because it's always destroying everything, and it just always wants to get out. But in my dreams it'll get out and go to tear something up, and then when I wake up it's too late. I can't see, only where it is. And I can't control what it's doing, except a little. I thought, what if it blows up the house or something while I'm there, and I couldn't do anything to stop it?"

"Shh, don't say that, that's not going to happen. No one is going to hurt you here." The young woman wrapped her arms around him in intense pity and wondered why she had never asked about his dreams before. "Credence, does that still happen here?"

His eyes had gone glassy and he had only the strength to nod.

"Oh, Credence..."

"I'm sorry. I know what Mr. Hodges said," he added hastily.

"You can't be expected to fight off a dark parasite in your _sleep_."

Ravina wracked her brain, trying to think of something she could possibly say to help. A real life Obscurial probably didn't show up out of the blue for most people. He himself attested to how dangerous it was, but her mind couldn't focus on that like she knew her father's would. She just kept picturing the lonely nights of tossing and turning with those white eyes. No one to tell. All alone.

"My momma died three years ago."

She hardly knew she had said it aloud, but she must have because the child stopped half-sobbing and stared at her with startled expression. "I know it's not the same but... You know, I had trouble sleeping after that too. I had to move here, with Daddy – Mr. Hodges. Everything was so different. I felt so empty, and alone." She took a deep breath. "But he always told me, 'nightmares are like boggarts', have you read about those yet?"

He nodded, glancing at the bookshelf to one of the older works called _Bestiarium Magicum._

"He said, 'everyone can control what scares them most, but no one starts out thinking that.' He says, 'regret keeps you in the past, 'what if's steal your present and worry mars the future'. I used to think I would never get out of it, but I somehow did. We'll find a way out for you."

He rested deeper by her side, the dependent lean almost tearing her heart out, "But what if it gets too strong for me? What if... something happens to me?"

"What makes you say that?" she asked sharply.

"I don't know," he shrugged, "I mean, you called it a parasite..."

"Nothing is going to happen," she asserted, feeling the need to say it. Saying it might make it true. "I promise, I promise I won't let anything happen to you."

 **A/N: Thank-you all for making it through Part 2 (this is the last chapter in Part 2). This scene… makes me want to cry for so many different reasons. I've always wondered what exactly the relationship is between the Obscurus and the Obscurial, and I'm glad Crimes of Grindelwald shed a little more light on it, even though I'd like to hear more from Credence himself, not just the guy whose sister might have been an Obscurial. This is what I got. Especially considering Dumbledore's words, I feel like the Obscurus might be a sort of maniacal shoulder devil, or as he put it, a dark twin. Also, I just have to say, Ravina is going to eat her words. Big time. Please review!**


	15. Chapter 15: We Don't Have Another Choice

Part 3

Trial at Ilvermorny

Chapter 15: We Don't Have Another Choice

Forty winks. To Anetta Blygull, the number had been lately ranging nearer to the twenties. Her room was large, with a queen-sized four poster bed covered in soft cushions and blankets. Her window was concealed with heavy drapes to keep out the morning light. Her walls were concrete marble so that the hustle and bustle of school goings-on did not disturb her tired ears. Lack of comfort was not what kept her up at night. Perhaps the pressure of heading the most prestigious wizarding school in America had something to do with it - but early July had come and school was out for the summer. Perhaps it was the annoying pecking of owls that _would_ bring letters directly to her window. Perhaps it was the usual aches and pains that eventually creped up on even a witch who was in her mid-eighties. Or perhaps it was the constant realization that under her very roof lay the most unstable form of dark magic known to wizard-kind. That must be it. Combined with all the other things, the headmistress that walked Ilvermorny halls that muggy Fourth of July was not a woman in the mood for celebrating.

A teacher, Roger Hodges – or most called him Rocky – gave her regular reports on the Obscurial's progress, but that did little to ease her mind. According to him, he'd had to fight off the Obscurus most everyday since beginning to teach its host magic. It wasn't that the behemoth had ever escaped the confines of the room where it was housed, or that it had so far been particularly deadly; but the thought everyday that at any given minute some dark force might be loose in her school set the professor's teeth squeaking. If there was anyone she would have trusted with this job it would be Roger. He had had to be impartial in teaching two of his own daughters – so much so he had almost flunked one out in her third year – but something seemed to have changed. His initial 'we don't have another choice' attitude was growing harder to see. Maybe it was just her, but he seemed to actually _want_ to spend time in that guest room on the second floor. Professor Blygull hoped that a man of his intelligence wouldn't let a ten-year-old cloud his vision. But this was no ordinary ten-year-old. Perhaps Professor Hodges would benefit from a little reminder from his superior.

While No-Majes prepared fireworks in the towns far below Mt. Grayback, and while wizards set the last preparations in order at the castle, Professor Blygull made her way to one of the spare rooms overlooking the equally grand chandelier and entrance doors. At least, this room _used_ to be spare. The multi-leveled, winding stairs required to get there almost tempted the old witch to apparate, but it was not the Obscurial she wanted to see, and the journey would make her more likely to run into her actual object. Besides, no one apparates to a front door.

"Hello Professor," a young, friendly voice said behind her.

"Ravina," Blygull answered, rather stiffly. The lack of shut-eye had caused her to be rather grumpy of anyone who seemed to be having a nice evening, especially someone so closely connected to her sleepless nights.

Ravina paused at the top of the stairs and straightened her skirt awkwardly. "Is there anything I can help you with?" The headmistress was not the type to walk by this door voluntarily, specifically since June. Something about the way the older woman looked at her made Ravina feel as if the word _Secretary_ was permanently blazing in a storm cloud above her head.

"Hm? No, no... well, yes. Do you know where your father is?"

"He's down at the entrance. Last I saw him he was telling Solan Nalos and the Pyrotechnician how to not explode the building."

"That does sound like him," the professor agreed. Then, seeing where the younger's eyes were sliding, "Are you going to see the Obscurial?"

"Yes, I'm going to see Credence."

Oh, right. Though the professor spent long hours considering him, she'd never really bothered with the child's name. He had always been just 'the Obscurial'.

"And how is he doing now?"

Ravina's nervous but cheerful countenance flickered, like the question had lost her in some unhappy memory. "Pretty OK I think. He's had a really tragic past and I think that's hard to let go of."

"Do you see any signs that the parasite is strengthening?"

The young woman's face darkened even more, "I... you mean because he's ten? I know it's never happened before, but he's getting better at controlling it, Professor. I think, maybe, he has a good chance. He can do some magic now without it overpowering him – and he's really good at it!"

"So I have heard," Blygull said, "But Ravina, if this boy and his Obscurus are going to be staying here as long as you seem to think, there's something I need to make quite clear to you, and to your father. You might need reminding even more than him." She leaned in close, causing Ravina to back up further into the Obscurial's door, "The law doesn't make exceptions for parasite-infested children. I do not care how uncontrollable this thing is if it injures someone, or kills someone, or causes irreversible damage. Ilvermorny is not a safe-house. It is _my school_ , and if that creature threatens the lives of the people in it, there will only be one option, do you understand? This is a life for a life, an eye for an eye. I do not want it to come to that, but if it does, you have to understand. Do you?"

She was leaning so close that Ravina's shoulder was digging into the door frame. "It seems fair," she gasped in barely above a whisper.

"Good." The old woman leaned back, suddenly lighter having sifted the burden over a little, and content that the little causerie had brought them on the same page. "Enjoy the celebrations, Ravina. I do not expect to see you later. I might just turn in early tonight."

 **A/N: When I wrote this, I thought it would be valuable to see the perspective of a sceptic, someone not so personally attached to the situation. I thought Professor Blygull's perspective might justify her a little – but who knows, maybe it had the opposite effect. Oh well. I love reviews!**


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16: Worry Steals the Future

The Obscurial reread his page of _Curses and Counter-Curses,_ running his finger along the Latin words. _Protego,_ he had heard that one a lot, from both Professor Hodges and Miss Ravina. He lifted his wand and focused, _"Prote-"_ but stopped. The spell was powerful. He could feel a rush of magic already, even before he finished the word. If the Obscurus – he'd better wait until there was someone to help in case things got out of hand.

Like clockwork, two voices, muffled, caused him to look around from the desk. They were coming up the stairs to his door. One of them was Ravina! He heard his name.

" _...a really tragic past... that's hard to let go of..."_

Unobtrusively, he slid out of the desk chair and moved closer to the door. Snatches of conversations overheard were the only way he had ever learned anything of normal life when living with Ma. He leaned in close with his ear pressed against the door to listen.

" _Do you see any sign that the parasite is strengthening?"_ An older, unfamiliar voice spoke.

Ravina's voice came next: _"You mean because he's ten? I know it's never happened before, but he's getting better at controlling it, Professor. I think he might have a chance..."_

The next thing was flooded out by the Obscurial's thoughts. _I know its never happened before... because he's ten..._ What was special about being ten? Why did he need a chance? A chance to what? He listened closer, hoping they would say more.

" _...if this boy and his Obscurus are going to be staying here as long as you seem to think..."_ the old voice said. What was _that_ supposed to mean? Then, _"The law doesn't make exceptions for parasite-infested children..."_ Whatever came next was unheard as the Obscurus lunged at the words and the boy had to fight back with all his force. _Parasite-infested..._ He knew what was inside him. He knew what he was. He'd seen people, like Professor Ro or even Hodges, look at him as if he were a dormant monster just waiting to lash out and attack; or, like Ravina, as if he were made out of the most fragile glass that could shatter at any minute. But the way that old voice described him – parasite infested; it was as if he had some terrible and contagious disease that separated him from the world. Were they thinking of turning him out, back to where he came from? Or maybe there was another, darker endpoint. _He might have a chance...parasite strengthening..._

The Obscurial could hear Ravina's breathing directly opposite the door, as the other voice spoke, "... _kills someone... irreversible damage... the punishment is the same."_

He could barely stand to listen, but couldn't have torn himself away either. Who exactly did they think the Obscurus was going to kill?

" _A life for a life, an eye for an eye..."_ The boy trembled. No one, not even Mr. Hodges – not even Professor Ro - spoke about him like that. But he had heard those words before. It was the sort of thing Ma would say. His mother, who had beaten him with a belt for showing signs of magic. Now this woman was practically threatening the same thing. What if it did kill someone? What if it killed –

He couldn't finish those thoughts. They both led to the same place.

Ravina's breathing could be heard on the other side of the door. There was only a slab of wood in between them. He could have gone barging out and demanded an explanation. He could have told them he wasn't dangerous, and begged that they let him stay. He could have... but wouldn't have been true. His Obscurus whispered and pulled.

The threats continued on the other side and the boy listened, too afraid to move. He could only hope that the only woman he trusted would say something, anything, to stop the downward spiral things were going in. She would. She had defended him from Professor Ro. He hoped she would do it quickly. It was getting stronger, harder to hold back.

The young woman was answering the other lady's threats. Her voice could be heard, quiet, but clear as day on the other side. _"It seems fair."_

The Obscurial froze.

It felt like he was falling. Into that empty, vacuum-like void that was always calling to him. He barely noticed himself stumbling away from the door, the Obscurus ringing in his ears till there was nothing else to hear. She had let him go. Just like that; as if his own fighting would never be enough to stop the beast inside him, as if she didn't _know_ that he couldn't do it alone. That might have been the point. The words from before came back to him. Maybe there was no fight to be had. No competition whatsoever. What had Chastity called him? Futilitarian. Maybe he was just a patient that no one, not the Hodges, nor this professor, expected to remain much longer. A patient whose illness was terminal.

 **A/N: Considering how sneaky Credence was in the first film, I thought he seemed like the type who would listen at doors. And that's really all I have to say on this chapter. Please review!**


	17. Chapter 17: The Truth Will Set You Free

Chapter 17: Truth Will Set You Free

Ravina came in a minute later, the troubled look from when she had been talking to Professor Blygull purposefully wiped from her face. "Credence, how's the –" but she stopped when she saw him. His back was to the door, body tense and rigid. Something was wrong. "Credence?" she said more cautiously.

"Am I dying?" The words were barely audible.

Ravina stilled a shiver. "What?"

"Is it _killing_ me?"

"Why would you ask that?" She said, hoping it wasn't what she thought it was.

"I heard you taking outside."

"Oh." Well, there was no getting around it now. She stammered, "You see, it's not written in stone. I've heard lots of stories of people overcoming things like this, and there's never really been a time when they've had any sort of help. But... no Obscurial has ever lived past... ten." She said the last word reluctantly.

The Obscurial sucked in his breath.

"We can change that," she added, "I'm sure if we worked hard enough, we could find a way to cure it. Most Obscurials don't have access to the kinds of things we have here."

"You lied to me."

"I didn't _lie_..." Ravina felt a stab of conscience.

"I trusted you. I thought you were my friend. I thought you were different."

"I am your friend!" Ravina protested. She reached out a hand to rest on the boy's shoulder. At her touch he turned, and for the first time his face could be seen. She coiled back. Gray-skinned, eyes two frost-covered pits, a hagridden ghost.

"You said you wouldn't let anything happen to me, you promised," he whispered in a voice as hollow as his face.

Ravina pulled herself together. "I-I'm sorry I said that. But nothing has to happen. There has to be a cure out there somewhere, and we'll find it, I know we can find it."

The ghost's face contorted into a ghastly expression before dissipating. "What about what that other person said? You'd let her do it."

"None of those things is going to happen," she tried desperately, "You can learn to control it, Credence."

He shook and his expression twisted once more. Was it just her eyes, or were black cracks appearing in his skin?

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I don't think I want to."

Ravina used to think she had seen the Obscurus; the wind-like, transparent entity. That had been just an imprint, a shadow. The real shadow was let loose now, tearing the child's body apart before her eyes. The room exploded. Ravina was thrown back by the shock wave and barely had time to take in the nebulous, tar-like form, prodigal with angry red before it completely filled her vision and she was forced to duck.

The black apparition streaked over her head with a haunting scream and plowed through the door, taking part of the wall with it and showering the woman with debris.

She picked herself up, nearly falling as she did so. One of her heels had broken off, but her mind didn't even think about doing a repairing spell in that moment. She hopped to the crumbling wall and saw the Obscurus surging down the stairs, not taking care of anything. It was a black mob of dissonance and destruction. "No, Credence!" she cried; but if he could even hear her in that state, she didn't know. Everything was unraveling. She didn't know anything. She hadn't known that keeping the Obscurials' lifespan a secret would cause such a thing. She hadn't known that by giving her word to Professor Blygull she might have to actually deliver on that promise. It just all circled back, didn't it? One bad choice stumbling after another from a drifter without a heel.

 **A/N: Yes, I did some callbacks to the first Fantastic Beasts movie in this chapter. I mean, Credence is still Credence, so he would probably say the same things given a similar situation. And I thought it would be interesting to see how he would react upon learning that the Obscurus parasite is generally deadly, which in-canon he probably already knows or will soon find out and we will never see. Things are heating up. Please review!**


	18. Chapter 18:Not the Time for Explanations

Chapter 18: Not the Time for Explanations

 _AAAAAAHHHHHH!_

 _No,_ yes.

Who's voice?

Perhaps it did speak, in the wild darkness of a beast come of age.

But they were of one mind now.

For the first time ever truly one and the same.

One thought.

One desperate voice.

 _Escape._

The explosion came first. Sound filled with a crazed rushing and roar. Everyone on the ground floor looked up. All faces blanched.

Rocky was standing in a small group with a wizard firework in his hand. It fell to the ground with a clatter. "Oh no..."

It was like nothing anyone on the ground floor had ever seen, not even Hodges or the two door guards who had fought it the first night. It was raw. The air around it seemed to sizzle with pain and anger; a dark, vespine mass, like a thousand black wasps that glowed on the inside with a red miasma. It burst out of the second-floor room, throwing debris - wall, plaster, stone, balcony - hurling down on the viewers in a hailstorm before lashing in curling waves at the stairs which it sailed down. A voice could be heard from above, "No, Credence!"

"Get back!" roared the Defense teacher, quickly changing his wand into an umbrella to save himself from the rain. The Pyrotechnician and Solan Nalos disappeared into the mineral haze. People loitering nearby fled. As the Obscurus tumbled down the winding stairs the marble railing knocked off its hinges and cracked on the stone floors, making the surface fracture like an egg.

" _!Monstruo!"_ One of the guards cried. Him and the other had just time to cast their barrier spells before the Obscurus was on top of them, diving like a missile at the doors. It rebounded, collected itself, and dove again. This time, the blanket-like surface spread itself out as wide as it would go and set itself on the shield. A crackling, searing sound came from where the two met. The air transfigured into tiny flashes of lightning. The monster squeezed and squeezed, then lifted back and fell again.

The air had cleared and Rocky's wand turned back to normal. He stared at the two men trapped under the assault. A thousand spells practiced over and over for just such a time as this surfaced in his mind, but he hesitated. He couldn't forget the scream the boy had given when he cast the _Baubilious_ Charm at the Obscurus.

Neither guard had any such scruples. From under the protective bubble they fired spells with flash after flash; _Stupify!_ and _Bombarda!_ could just be heard over the din of beast and chaos. The Obscurus roared, something vaguely face-like appearing so briefly it could have just been the imagination, before turning tale and flying back where it came from.

"Daddy!" Ravina was beside the professor, apparated from somewhere. "Don't hurt him! It's my fault, he heard me talking to Professor Blygull!"

"Not the time for explanations, Ravina!" he shouted back. Then all four of them looked up as a shadow blocked the light, sending them into natural evenfall. All sound hushed. A _clink;_ silence screamed.

" _Finestra!"_ Rocky cried as some other voices screamed,

" _Wingardium Leviosa!"_

The falling grand chandelier exploded into knife-sharp glitter which hung over their heads like a canopy.

"How did it get there?" Rocky fumed as the blackness wound its way around the shards of suspended glass to make another turn at the door. "Dawson! Valadez!"

The blonde guard raised his wand. It glowed a sizzling energy, but there was no need. Midflight, the Obscurus overturned the large table set with fireworks. They ignited at its touch.

" _Aguamenti!"_ shouted two voices, but the damage was done. Comets shot off in every direction, creating such a daze that Rocky couldn't even see to the door. Some transformed into the shape of phoenixes; others wrote glowing words in the sky. _You're dead_ one said.

The explosions and insanity of the fireworks seemed to have frightened the Obscurus. It gave another of its horrible screeches, turned on its heel from the exit and swooped in the opposite direction toward the Sorting Round. The two entrance guards ran up to Rocky, who was pawing a hysterical Ravina off his shoulder. "Come on. I want to save this school from any more damage, but don't fire at it unless you have to, you hear me?" Without waiting for an answer, he tore down the hall as fast as his sixty-year-old legs would allow.

 **A/N: So, yes, there are some callbacks to both the first and second movie in this chapter. I was trying to create an image of what Credence did in TCOG when he attacked Grimmson by trying to squeeze in the Shield Charm. I thought that was pretty cool. Also, the Fourth of July, which they do not have at Hogwarts for obvious reasons. I was pretty sure that Ilvermorny staff would still celebrate it even not during the school year because it is a pretty big holiday. Please review!**


	19. Chapter 19: Stop

Chapter 19: Stop

They ran out of the entrance, through the Sorting Round, and around a bend, following wisps of black that were just in view. The table-sized entity seemed to be running for its life. Both guards overtook the old gentleman quickly, and ran ahead, shouting and dividing terrified people who had come out of the woodwork for the spectacle. Dawson ground to a halt at the back of the First-through-Third Year Transfiguration room, and his fellow guard could barely stop in time. Rocky ran up behind them.

The Obscurus had carved a path through the desks and Professor Ro's well-put-together set up at the front of the room, blasting through everything like an unheeding dragon. It was now gathered at the back, carving a hole in the wall, digging furiously. Black tendrils reduced hundred-year-old stone to dust in seconds.

The sixty-year-old professor suddenly looked very aged, watching the monster before him. The two other men had their wands poised, ready, just waiting for the word or some stimulus that would allow them to strike. "Credence..." the professor said, in a voice as low as the night.

The tendrils paused. The rabid wolf ceased its howling. It was as if the Obscurus could recognize the name of its host; or perhaps its host was in there, listening.

The old man carved the outline of his face with his hands. He taught Defense Against the Dark Arts, he knew more spells than he could count, had cozened numerous evil-doers and threats into submission with his knowledge. All he said now was, "Stop." A crowd was starting to form behind them. _"Stop."_ He repeated, louder. The two guards raised their wands. It seemed to see and billowed up.

"No!" came a shout from the crowd.

"Do. Not. Shoot." Rocky said through gritted teeth. To the Obscurus, "Pull it back, Credence. I know you can hear me." The dark blanket swirled slowly in a laeotropic direction, as if considering. Rocky took a few steps forward, "Come on..."

" _Get it away from there."_ A professor – Ro – rose up through the spectators and advanced on her room. The Obscurus woke up and shied away at the movement. It bolted sideways and down the adjoining hall.

"For the love of Merlin," the wizard grumbled. To Dawson and Valadez, "Apparate - the other side!" They disappeared.

"What are you going to do to him?" Ravina demanded, limping up at last.

Her father was half on his way down the hall. "Whatever I have to. For heaven's sake fix that heel!"

The black entity flew and twisted through the winding corridors of Ilvermorny, growing smaller as it went. The light died as torches ceased. It melted into the shadows. At last, the smoky form turned into a running boy, wisps of black still trailing behind him. Heavy steps and a growing murmur were perusing. His eyes hadn't even fully turned back from their misted sheen when two points of light blinded him and his arms were grabbed by Dawson and Valadez.

"Don't aggravate it!" Rocky said running up, then seeing the boy, "Oh."

The face was blank as empty parchment. He was quaking horribly. The Obscurus seemed ready to burst forth again at any second. Professor Hodges turned around, looking at the leader of the crowd that was coming from the Transfiguration room to see. Her eyes roamed from the boy to him, and she nodded. Rocky made a motion to the guards. The two of them, Obscurial in the tow, turned and disapparated.

"What are you doing?" Ravina pushed her way through the onlookers. The sleeve of her red dress had fallen off her shoulder and her hair was wild. She stalked to her father, "Where did they take him? Why did you just let them go?"

"He is under my orders, Ravina," Professor Blygull said, "And I thought I made it clear to you just a few minutes ago that –"

Ravina whirled to her, "That's why this happened. Why doesn't anyone understand? No one got hurt, he didn't kill anyone."

"Only because we were faster than it," Rocky interjected.

She looked at him, betrayed, "You planned this with her?"

"Not planned, no. _Prepared_ as any safety-conscious person would."

"When are you going to accept it, Ravina?" Professor Ro said, stalking up through the people. "He destroyed my classroom. How much more evidence do you need? He's a dangerous, out of control -"

"No, you don't understand, you don't understand..." The young woman took a few gasping breaths, trying to collect herself. Ro took this as victory, turned, and pushed her way out back to the wreckage of the room. Others followed, gabbing among themselves, glancing back at the spot where the Hodges stayed. _Obscurial... always knew... matter of time_. Ravina tried not to listen.

"Where did they take him?" she asked her father.

"The dungeon."

"The _dungeon?_ "

"Ravina," Blygull warned.

Rocky directed his attention to her, "Do you know what needs to be done?"

The girl pleaded, "Please, don't hurt him. He didn't hurt anyone, you _can't_ do anything to him. Half of it was me, I should have told him."

The headmistress turned her head from the Hodges and looked back at the remainder of the Transfiguration room down the hall, and the trail of destruction that led up to it. She, too, looked very old. "Ravina," she finally said slowly, "Make a list of the people who witnessed it. I want to know who is ineligible for the jury."

 **A/N: I will explain how trials at Ilvermorny work in a later chapter. It is something I came up with, so don't worry if you're confused. Since Ilvermorny is a castle, I figured they would have a dungeon of some sort. Hogwarts did. I edited two chapters pretty quick so I figured I might as well put them up at the same time. Please review!**


	20. Chapter 20: The Dungeon

Chapter 20: The Dungeon

Suddenly there, eyes unseeing.

Crushing sickness and darkness.

Hard hands.

Hard voices.

 _Anodyne, please come to me._

Side-along apparition is much harder with three people. Daniel Dawson and Rafael Valadez had done it so often in sync that they hardly even needed to look at each other anymore, but this time was different. The boy that they clutched between their arms was limp and white as wet paper.

"Get him in there," Danny grunted.

They dragged him over to the nearest cell. As soon as the child was shoved inside, something in him seemed to wake up. "What are you doing to me?"

"We're sorry," Rafael said, putting the special spell on the lock.

"You can't leave me in here, please! I have to get out!" the child advanced forward on the bars and then stopped midstride. His breathing quickened once again. His body shook violently, giving both guards a sense of déjà vu that was wholly unwelcome.

"Oh no," said Danny.

" _Amigo..."_ his companion warned.

The blackness engulfed the cell in one sudden explosion. It splayed its tendril-claws and attacked the shield-enforced bars with rabid vigor. The dingy cell lit up with an 8' by 10' force field flashlight.

"This is what happened before, we have to do something!" Danny wracked his brains. He had done this job ever since becoming an adult. In six years more than one strange or even dangerous thing had happened; but nothing like this. He remembered the Obscurus from when its host had first arrived. It had overpowered a patronus. A _patronus!_ "What happens if that shield breaks?"

In the stressful moment Rafael looked mystified, "It couldn't. Nothing could– _FIANTO DUR –!"_ but in that moment the raucous beast shattered the force-field as if it were made of glass.

" _STUPIFY!"_ Danny shouted on instinct, "We can't let it escape!"

Two ants fighting the king of all wasps; the men gave it all they had until they felt like they were scraping stone the bottom of a magic well. Spell after spell they fired; some making the Obscurus cry out as if in pain, and others seeming to have no effect at all. The combined effort was just barely enough to keep the thing from busting out of the cell and smashing its way up to the main school level once more. It desperately tried to get loose. Valadez came at it with _Arresto Momentum._ It barely seemed to notice. _Ventus Duo;_ Dawson sent a strong jet of wind into the cell which at first seemed to cause it confusion, before ricocheting off the stone and flying back in their faces. At that point, the Obscurus took its chance and made another dive for the exit. Danny jumped in front just in time and cast _Incendio_ , making it retreat back from a sudden rush of magical fire.

He screamed, "We have to get the kid back! If we can get this thing contained –"

"It does not want to come back," Valadez shouted over the fray. "Look at it. It's _sin esperanza_."

"I DON'T UNDERSTAND YOUR SPANISH, RAFAEL!"

Danny rolled out of the way of another dive, barely managing to keep a hold of his wand. His blonde hair had turned gray from the loam dust billowing everywhere. There had to be something, _anything._ What had Professor Hodges done? That hadn't worked. The first time, on that night in June? But it had broken through the Shield Charm here and was clearly a lot more desperate than it had ever been before. There was another way, there had to be. Something, _something_ , more powerful than an Obscurus.

"I'm going to Cruciatus Curse it!" he shouted over the roar.

Rafael's shocked look nearly caused him to get smashed by what had been part of the ceiling. _"No!"_ cried.

Dawson gripped his wand and took a few deep breaths. The black tendrils were coming for him. He grit his teeth, and swept his arm around like a lunula and pointed it at the Obscurus and shouting, _"Crucio!"_

The red lightning struck it in the core. It spun out of control, like a flying automobile on fire from the inside. The Obscurus knocked into the ground then against the walls. The scream sounded almost human. Dawson and Valadez dove for cover. And then -

Nothing.

The men rose from their hiding places cautiously. Danny was shaking almost as bad as the boy had been before he had turned all monster. His wand was still steaming.

"You _tonto, malo, estúpudo –"_ Rafael spouted, then went off on some Spanish spiel that sounded like it contained a lot of swears.

"I know, I know," Danny protested, "We didn't have a choice! It was too powerful for us."

"There is _always_ a choice, _zopenco,"_ the other retorted.

Danny shook his head and turned to the boy, who had rematerialized sometime during the confusion. He was sitting, knees up to chest, not facing them. The trembling had stopped, the black cracks had withdrawn from his skin, but something was wrong. His chest didn't move up and down. There were no ticks or rustles or fidgets. The stillness sent a chill down both men's spines, like the boy had come back as a stone outcropping of the walls. And that wasn't all. Gashes, or maybe burns; cropping up all over his skin, red and squamous. He looked like the corpses that come out of burned buildings or forest fires or... wizard duels.

Rafael was who said what they were both thinking, "Did we kill him?"

Danny put his face in his hands.

 **A/N: So, the whole concept of having guards at the school seemed logical for Ilvermorny because it seems like America as a whole is a lot more paranoid than the UK. The name Daniel Dawson I got from two characters in the movie** _ **A Few Good Men:**_ **Daniel Kaffee and Harold Dawson. The reason might clear up later. I picture him as Jason Gray-Stanford from** _ **Monk.**_ **Rafael Valadez I picture as Michael Peña. The Unforgivable Curses I figured would be a little less unforgivable in America given the 'wild west' day and age and how liberal they seemed to be about destructive curses (*cough* Credence's 'death' *cough*). Please review!**


	21. Chapter 21: Able to Penetrate

Chapter 21: Able to Penetrate

Nothing.

It's alright, my little friend.

Nothing, nothing.

You know I'll always be here.

 _Nothing, nothing, nothing!_

Come back. I'll keep you safe.

 _Just leave me alone!_

Ravina hadn't changed out of her red party dress. Her eyes were lined with a similar color. She hadn't slept, along with everyone else. The school seemed to be in a mutual state of shot-nerves and raffishness. Professor Blygull had set Professor Ro to organizing repairs while she quietly stepped into preparing the trial. It was official by this point. It was going to happen. The young woman had prayed that, by some miracle, maybe the whole thing would blow over. At Ilvermorny, that would take a miracle. _"I don't think I want to."_ The words repeated, like his face, his movements, in her mind. What would a jury think, if they heard he had said those words?

She walked quickly, trying at least not to seem rushed. Guards were watching him. There were bars keeping him in, like a prisoner. Not _like_ a prisoner. At some point you pass up comparisons.

"There has been some trouble with the Transfiguration room. It was pretty banged up - what a coincidence. The wall crumbled in the back, almost brought the whole castle on our heads. Laren is eating her hair. Oh, thank-you Ravina." Rocky took the cup that his daughter handed him and accepted the coffee she poured. It was gone before his next sentence. "There is going to be a trial, as I am sure you know. It was inevitable, really, after everyone seeing that thing. How was it last night down here?"

The two guards took their coffee. Valadez stole the chance to lean against the wall and close his eyes for the first time in ten hours. Dawson remained standing, not daring to look away from Professor Hodges. "We had to deal with the Obscurus when we first brought it down here. But we took care of it, sir." He shot a look at his friend, willing him to stick to the excuse of linguistically-challenged.

"You took _care_ of it," the professor repeated, glancing between them. His daughter slipped back toward the cell.

Danny saw where she was headed "Wait – " he started, but it was too late.

"Credence?" she saw him through the bars. "What happened? Why is he all beat up?" Her wand was out in a second and she was tapping against the lock.

Rafael opened his eyes, _"Alohomora_ does not work on that one, Miss Hodges."

"And it wouldn't matter if it did," Rocky added, rubbing his tired eyes, "I already tried. He has some sort of shield surrounding that thing that no one has been able to penetrate, right boys?"

"Yeah, Rafael knows some healing spells, but neither of us could get in last night," Danny said.

Ravina stared in at the boy, huddled with his back to them, the injuries glaring painfully obvious on his skin. "But how did it happen?"

Neither guard volunteered. Rocky spoke slowly, "It was a battle, Ravina. And they could not have known that hurting the Obscurus would also hurt the Obscurial. We never told them, remember?"

"Could not have known?" Her voice rose, composure slipping away. "Couldn't you have guessed?"

"Ravina –" Rocky started, but his daughter turned to Valadez. "Can you let me in?"

The guard looked between her and Professor Hodges, who was his rubbing pained temples again, "Yes, Miss Hodges."

The men watched doubtfully as Ravina climbed into the square room where the child was sitting. He hadn't reacted to anything that had been said, had barely moved at all since last night when Rafael had thought he was dead. The shield quickly had put those theories to rest. The pair of them had tried everything they could think of from talking to _Finite Incantatem,_ but neither the determined protector nor aspiring Auror had made a dent. The ten-year-old was too powerful.

"Why does she care so much about an Obscurial?" Danny muttered to his friend while Ravina poked her way about trying to find the shape of the shield.

The professor overheard. "I do not know."

The girl had found the edge; a round bubble coming out from the child and encasing almost the entire cell. "Credence?" she called through, "It's just me. It's Ravina. Please let me in."

The words came through the bubble hollow, like they were sifted with sand, but the voice was undeniable. His muscles tensed in spite of himself. The magic around shimmered slightly. _Don't listen, don't listen, don't listen._

"You need help," Ravina said, "I'm not going to hurt you. Would I ever hurt you?"

They said if he did anything, he would be punished. Well, he had done something. He couldn't let them in or they would hurt him again.

"Please," she put her hand on the barrier and instantly jolted back as it visibly rippled, "You need it, you know you do."

"Ravina," her father came to the bars, "He is not ready, everyone can see -"

" _No._ Look at him!"

Rafael spoke up quickly, "She can stay here if she wants to, if the boy changes his mind."

"Yes, and I am sure both of you could use some sleep," Rocky added quickly.

Ravina looked in between the three of them, searching their faces. Daniel had to look away after a second. He stared past her, at the boy sitting on the floor, and felt on his skin the awful sense of spiders crawling beneath it. He couldn't look at him either.

"I'll stay," the woman decided. She looked at her father, "I'll call your wand if I need help. Could you – "

"I will let Professor Blygull know," Rocky answered, rubbing his head, "In a few hours maybe..."

The two guards made their way through the seemingly blinding daylight of the main level castle, through the clumps of people discussing last night or the repairs that were being done.

"You did not mention how we got the Obscurial back," Rafael finally voiced. His friend tensed.

"I know. I don't plan to."

 **A/N: So, this chapter gave me a lot of trouble. I had to completely rewrite it so that it's** _ **very**_ **different now than in the original draft. The first time I wrote this scene Credence did let Ravina into the force field, but now I thought that it would have been unrealistic to have that happen only a few hours after the incursion. As for the force field itself, I figured that the little things that wizards can do before they're trained would be amplified in him because he's so powerful and has been suppressing his magic for some time. I mean, the first time he used magic in TCOG, he blew up a mountain, so I thought this wasn't too much of a stretch. Please review! I'd love to hear what people think of these changes.**


	22. Chapter 22: The Walls Crumbled

Chapter 22: The Walls Crumbled

Ravina dreamed about the country. It was a little house, other little houses speckled nearby. C _ountry_ might not have been the right word. Worcester loomed within sight, its smoke sometimes even visible on the wind over their home. _In between the bricks and bracken, Worcester's forgotten land. In between Obliviations, mages living just at hand._ It was a poem her mother had always repeated whenever the landscape was brought up. She said it had been passed down throughout her family, and was meant to be melic, but no one could remember the tune. Their family had always lived there, and always planned to. Crystal Hodges had said that not even seeing her husband and daughters only during school breaks was enough to tear her away from the Massachusetts countryside. No-Majes coming to settle there wasn't a problem. She knew defensive spells. No one would see her little household magic safely secreted behind the curtains. Even if they did, what could they do about it?

Ravina woke with a start.

The Obscurial was moaning. Both he and the woman had apparently fallen asleep in the midday weariness of being up all night. Neither had strayed to pleasant dreams. He was groaning. His head moved back and forth as if being swayed by a tide. Ravina got up and looked in concernedly. The bars and shadows and force field embosked the child, who sat in the same position, almost camouflaged on the gray stone. As his head moved, the shield flickered.

" _Ladrón Amigable,"_ she whispered, suddenly hopeful. The door swung open with a cringe-worth _creek_. Mr. Hodges had insisted that Valadez tell her the opening and shutting spells on the cell door just in case. At the sound, the blinking bubble gave a last _pop_ , and died. The boy was still asleep. She slid her steps forward, not daring to lift her feet off the ground and let her heels click. When she was close enough, she sank down into a crouch and ran her wand along the angry red injuries from last night's encounter.

That was what woke him.

His eye settled on her, _inside_ the cell, _inside_ the shield, with her wand an inch from his arm. He recoiled, like a nocturnal burrower not ready for the light. "Don't shut me out!" she said, as the yellow vision of the force field flickered back, "Look. I healed you."

Unwillingly, his eyes lowered to the torn-up sleeves and exposed arm that had been all covered in red last he had seen. It was spotless. Not a scratch, not even a scar or bruise. He glanced at the other arm and felt up to his face.

"Here -" She scrooched forward and ran her wand along them, only coming closer when he flinched away. "How does that feel?"

His hand went up to his face once more. It was smooth. No scabs or pain or anything. Finally glancing at Ravina, he nodded.

She smiled, tears of relief filling her eyes, "I'm sorry I let this happen. I never wanted to leave you with them, but they wouldn't let me come down until this morning. Why wouldn't you let me in?"

He watched her small, pointed nose and brown eyes turn red, and her young face struggle to hold a steady countenance. She looked so sincere. But then there was last night...

"You sold me out," he whispered, in a voice so low and cracked that she could barely understand.

Ravina looked down at the floor, knowing exactly how much she was to blame, "I never meant to. I never thought it would come to this. You _know_ I wouldn't have said it if I had known it would come to this."

He, too, pulled away, drawing his knees close around his chest again, "I don't."

She bit her lip, pushing away the hurt of that statement. It wasn't like she didn't deserve it. "Credence, you need to know about the trial."

His head snapped back to her.

"It's something we have here when a student... when we need to decide what to do about someone. Or sometimes if something happens and we need to figure out who did it. The headmaster or headmistress is always the judge, and teachers or employees are the jury. It's not very formal or anything. If we need to take it further we, well, someone else does that," she finished lamely, hoping the MACUSA side of things would never have to be explained.

He pulled himself in further, murmuring something to himself to himself.

"They might not convict you," Ravina tried, though she doubted it, "It's not like you hurt anyone or anything."

He couldn't look her way. Funny, strange thing that _she_ had said that. She didn't even know.

 **A/N: This chapter got completely redone as well. This scene happened the night before and was part of the last chapter in the original draft. One thing that I think I explained in the original but not in here was that Rafael made the spell that controlled the force field/door lock to go in and out of the cell, and that's why it's in Spanish – and not part of HP canon. Please review!**


	23. Chapter 23: What Kind of Hurt?

Chapter 23: What Kind of Hurt?

A cyclopean, pitch-colored, shapeless tornado. So pure, so raw, so free from everything. All it needed to do was escape and no one would be able to catch up. No voice would silence it, push it down, tell it to disappear.

Then Mr. Hodges had to come. It had gotten so far. Its host had capitulated, given up the reins. It could run rampant; wild, like the beast that it was. Don't let me escape? Watch this fall. This room? Take back the pain you gave me, professor. Mr. Hodges' voice almost put a stop to all of it. It cut through something. The thread that joined Obscurial and Obscurus quivered. _No, don't listen to him. He lied too._ But that sad voice... the simple command _stop_... He had started to teach him; maybe hadn't always been _nice_ , but at least honest, and trustworthy.

But so had Ravina.

It needed to draw back, reconfigure. Sometimes you need to do that before a strike. It means wasting precious time. The Obscurus was barely contained, and just for a second, when hard hands grabbed at him. It caught him before it could get free again.

The Obscurial had apparated before. It was sickening. This second time it felt like he was being squeezed, compressed. It made him want to choke. The hard hands shoved him into a small space, walls pressing in on all sides. No outlet. No way to escape. The Obscurus was livid, and so desperate. _"I need to get out!"_ they both screamed.

It roared against the invisible wall, trying to break free. This time it wasn't a game. The claws came out, tearing and scraping and punching with all their tormented angst and agony. It had never pushed this hard; but it would go through magical shields or stone walls or marble floor or human flesh if it could get him out faster. In this form, with the adrenaline coursing through and forming a white buzz that no other sound could penetrate, there was nothing that could stop it. The monster, formed and drunk on magic, commanded.

bIt didn't see the red light come out of the blonde wizard's wand, but they felt it. He felt himself screaming. If pain was in those other pinpricks from those other spells, it was forgotten like a black widow at the sight of an acromantula. This was pain. This was pain. This was...

Nothing.

It got pushed down, traumatized beyond its strength. The roar was still in his ears, but the comforting safety had left him. The desperate desire to flee was knocked away. He was left alone – completely. So alone.

If he sat absolutely still, hardly daring to breathe, the hurt might not overtake him. If he let slide a small portion of suppressed magic, the wall wouldn't let anything attack him anymore. If he ignored the voices, maybe they wouldn't betray him.

It's alright, my little friend. I'll keep you safe.

 _All_ the voices.

Ravina brought the news of the trial. It was all anyone talked about around him. Their logistical pettifog about it was the only thing he could count on for days. Mr. Hodges came down often and talked to his 'gatekeepers', as he called them; the one who never looked at him without his hand on his wand, and the other with the strange accent. They never bothered him, beyond that first night. Never cared about him either, only talked to each other or to Mr. Hodges, usually about him. It was like having this unorthodox and probably terminal disease made him an unwilling circus attraction for anyone who felt like looking in. Very few did. Ravina was down there often, for a while. One day she told him that she wouldn't be able to come anymore, and disappeared. A guard also left without explanation. The replacement was someone whose presence he enjoyed even less, especially when every look reminded him of the memory of tearing up her classroom.

His most constant source of information was the white-haired DADA professor, who talked volubly and frequently with whoever was outside the cell about the trial. He become like an expert.

An accused student would have some member of faculty represent them while another opposed, or represented a different student. The judge was the headmaster or headmistress. They decided the final punishment. He heard that his trial would be more difficult because most of the school staff was gone on summer break, and a good portion of those who were left had seen him tearing through the halls in a one-wizard storm. This left only a few who could be in the jury, the people who decided if he was guilty. Was he guilty? He didn't know for sure, but there were a few memories of things the Obscurus had wanted that even he could barely bring himself to think about. Those memories would have to go away if he wanted to survive this trial.

Sometimes, after Professor Hodges had discussed things with the guards, or had a racket-session with Professor Ro, he was let in to the dingy room to talk with the Obscurial. The Obscurial didn't know what to make of this at first. The old wizard, in their magic sessions, had always seemed reserved, and a little cold. He never asked personal questions, never told his own stories, never even touched the boy if it wasn't necessary. The Obscurus Incursion though, as it had been named, seemed to have pushed him forward, especially with the absence of Ravina. He was a little, a _very_ little, nicer.

"You don't remember what spells the guards used on the Obscurus the first night here, what the words were?" he asked again after preforming some sort of magical search and coming up empty. The boy wasn't exactly sure why he seemed to care so much about that. It had come up several times, usually after talking with one of the guards who had been there. The boy would have rather he let him forget about it.

"I don't know. It was too fast. I think only one of them hurt really bad."

"What kind of hurt?" The professor pressed, leaning in.

The Obscurial hesitated, remembering how the torture had seemed to shatter his monster's sanity. "I wanted to die."

The days slipped past. It was hard to tell in the dungeon; day was just a state of wakeful mind while night was gloomy, unprompted tiredness. A week, maybe? Two weeks? The never-ending time was only broken by occasional visits, usually Professor Hodges, conversations of the gatekeepers, or sometimes a reprimand from Professor Ro. Over time, the traumatized spirit hidden away began to wake up again and make itself known. He could escape, maybe, with its help. He could make them pay for everything that had happened. He could bring the whole castle down on their heads, give back the pain they had paid him for doing what? Just trying to get away? But these were not his thoughts. He had to push them back, had to _just keep fighting._ That's what they taught him, to contain this. That's what Ma had taught him; punishment is for the wicked. He deserved it, every stinging spell. Maybe once the trial was over, he could dream it away forever. For now though he would have to sit in his distress, taking discipline they doled out like bread and water, and drowning out the boorish desires of the deadly disease on the other side. No rest ever came to Obscurials.

 **A/N: Yeah, this was a sad one. Originally, I thought it would be valuable to see how things looked from the Obscurial/Obscurus perspective. FYI, he only stayed in the cell for like eight or nine days. Please review!**


	24. Chapter 24: An Unwinnable Case

Chapter 24: An Unwinnable Case

He had been in that cell for over a week. She had been banished, like she was a felon herself – _it is not that I believe you are impartial, Ravina, but the policy is to keep the representatives as impartial as possible,_ Professor Blygull had told her – without even getting to explain to him why. If she had known about that, maybe she wouldn't have volunteered. No, that wasn't the truth. She _needed_ to volunteer. It wasn't like her father wasn't a better person for the job or that she had any sort of experience or even talent that would lend to this sort of thing. Those six days where she had been gone had been completely spent in pouring over previous case minutes and grilling her father for any strategical nugget or tribunal vocabulary he could possibly give to her. But she had to do it. This was all partially her fault anyway.

The young witch sat, tensely and fidgeting. Ilvermorny's trial room gave her the willies under the best of circumstances – what with the caboshed erumpent head on the back wall, and large, ivory gavel made out of said erumpent's horn lying on the judge's table – but all the people staring and whispering made it even worse. Mostly they were the wizards and witches who had been up and about the Sorting Round or entrance that night. That made them ineligible for the jury, but it didn't seem to stop any of them from forming opinions. A few of the more intelligent creatures that liked to hang about the campus had even snuck in, and for once no one was shooing them away. The boy beside her had shrunk down in his seat so far that he looked like a misplaced shadow of the table.

The erumpent horn banged once.

"Everybody please quiet down. The hearing shall begin shortly, as soon as our plaintiff gets here-"

"I am here, Madam Blygull. Excuse me, coming through - Sorry for the hold-up." A man with short-cut blonde hair made his way through the valley in the crowd up onto the opposing table.

Ravina's eyes widened, "Danny?"

"Hello," he said distractedly, not looking their way.

"Since everyone had now arrived..." the headmistress said, cutting off any further conversation. "We are here commencing the trial of the Obscurial, charged with –" she read from a parchment, "-destructive and threatening behavior, general intent, and the possession of Dark Magic. This trial is an informal gathering. Miss Ravina Hodges has volunteered to represent defense, and Mr. Daniel Dawson to represent prosecution."

 _Since when has Danny represented prosecution?_ Ravina's mind was still stuck back there – a wonderful beginning. How much exactly had she missed while locked away in that spooky library? The last she'd heard they hadn't found a plaintiff yet. She knew her father had started to worry. A few people would have been more than happy to step up and send the kid packing for Canada, but there had been conflictions of some sort. She wasn't exactly sure what, and frankly, she hadn't really cared while her headspace was a crowded box full of legal terms and nerves. Daniel Dawson sat there like a fwooper on a perch. A small stack of parchment notes lay where he had slapped them on the desk. He didn't look the least bit out of place, less than she did anyway. She hadn't known him really in school. He was four years ahead of her. A little impetuous as per the likes of his House, but no one but her father had ever had a problem with that.

"We shall begin with each party's opening statement, then the prosecution, Mr. Dawson, can call his witnesses. Remember, this is supposed to be an informal proceeding. I do not want this case to last ten days. I would be surprised if anyone here missed supper, but you two, I really do not want to be surprised. Are you ready, Mr. Dawson?"

"Yes, Madam Blygull." The man glanced quickly at a paper on the table and went over to stand before the jury.

Danny's eyes made a quick pass over the people in the box. _Know your jury,_ a professor of his had once said. He hadn't always wanted to be a school guard, or even the distant, awe-inspiring Auror. In the box, there was Mr. Clihf, the night patrol. In schooldays he had caught him sneaking out once or twice on dares. Professor Luckey, a Divination teacher - down to earth sort of fellow. Ms. Weasley, the healer; she was new, from England. Nice, as far as he could tell.

"Ladies and gentlemen, witches and warlocks," he began, "A little over a month ago an Obscurial arrived on our doorstep and unleashed a deadly and powerful force on the school. Professor Hodges managed to subdue it, and he and his daughter have been looking after the child ever since. However, it seems that care and attention weren't enough. About a week ago, on the fourth of July, we received another Obscurus attack, this one even more destructive than the first." Danny made sure to look the members in the eye. "In the interest of an impartial jury, none of you were there, but I was. Either the Obscurial is out of control, and cannot be taught, or the attack was purposeful. And let me tell you, it felt pretty purposeful from where I stood. That would make him even more dangerous. You do the math. It's an unwinnable case."

 **A/N: Now maybe you understand why I named Daniel Dawson after two characters from** _ **A Few Good Men.**_ **I feel like I should address some of the names mentioned in the jury. Professor Luckey was mentioned a while ago. Funnily enough, I was on the hunt for names in the credit section of, I think it was** _ **Wreck-It Ralph**_ **(credits are a great place to find names), and there was someone there named Bud Luckey. I thought,** _ **that's the best name for a Divination teacher that I ever did see.**_ **As for Ms. Weasley, she comes back more in the second instalment, but basically, yes, she is related to the HP Weasleys, though not directly. She immigrated to America from England. Was it fan-service? Why, yes, yes it was. Please review!**


	25. Chapter 25: Storehouse of Secrets

Chapter 25: Storehouse of Secrets

"It is not an unwinnable case," Rocky said first thing when he made his way to Ravina. She had been keeping her professional poker face up pretty well during her argument and the cross-examinations, but he couldn't help but notice her nose twitching unconsciously the way it always did when she was agitated. "Your opening statement was fine."

"Not as good as Danny's."

"He has more experience than you."

Ravina shot her father an accusing glance, "You knew about all this, didn't you? Why didn't anyone say that he would be the plaintiff?"

"You didn't ask." The professor made a tired sweep of his fine-and-getting-finer hair. "When you were in fifth-year, Danny and his friend – Butch, I think his name was. Just like a Thunderbird, isn't it? - came to me and asked what they had to do to become lawyers at MACUSA. I gave them some pointers, and that's all there was to it. The other fellow actually became a lawyer if I remember correctly."

"But why would he even care?" she asked.

"Who knows?" Rocky said. "I'm not exactly his storehouse of secrets. He would probably rather confide in Laren Ro."

"I suppose..." Ravina gazed down at the Obscurial, who, if anything, had scooted further down into his chair. She couldn't imagine what this must be like for him, hearing the story hashed out again and again. So much for not letting anything happen to him. Fife minutes of their fifteen-minute recess was already used up. She had wanted to use this interregnum to prepare him. He was listed to go up next. Good glory, what a nightmare that would be. He was the prosecutor's Occamy egg shell if he would say what he wanted him to say.

" _I_ will speak to the accused," Rocky said, reading her mind. "If you want to talk to Danny you should probably do it now. You only have eight minutes."

"Yeah, yeah ok." Taking one last look at the Obscurial, she headed off.

The break was called directly after Rafael Valadez's testimony on the witness chair. While everyone turned to their neighbor and discussed the evidence and trial so far, he made his way down and past Danny's table.

The latter watched him go by, sullen from the last few minutes, "Don't give me that look."

"I was not trying to look at you," he retorted.

"Oh, c'mon. I know you hate me for doing all this."

"I do not hate you," Rafael stopped his track, "I just do not like what you are doing."

Danny was most certainly getting the look now. It was something between condemnation and pity, two ingredients bad on their own and unpalatable together. He gazed morosely down at his hands.

"Talking about looking," his friend finally said, "Miss Hodges is looking like she is about to come over here. Her and the professor are talking and looking at you."

Danny groaned and rubbed his hands over his face, "For the love of... Listen, I know it's not really your thing, but could you do me a huge favor?"

While his friend went to intercept Ravina, Daniel Dawson sat and brooded. It wasn't that the trial wasn't going well. Actually, he couldn't have asked for a better debut. Too bad that wasn't his dream anymore. But it got harder to question people and get the rise, facts, and opinions that the jury needed to hear when he would just turn around from it and see that very Obscurial scrunched up in his chair. And he knew what was coming next. When he wouldn't have the excuse of looking away. Well, he had walked into that one, had even been cautioned, but for once in his life he had had to be determined.

The two of them had shared a light once the boy was asleep in his cell. If the smoke got too thick one of them would wave their wands and transfigure it back to air before it could wake him up. Rafael still preferred his cigars, but Danny had embraced the growing fashion of cigarettes among the city folk.

"They're still looking for a prosecutor for the trial," he had mentioned lazily.

"Mm."

"I was thinking of volunteering."

The other guard come out of his reverie, _"Mm?"_

"I mean, I did want to be a lawyer for a while. I studied it for a year or so before I switched. Not many people have that sort of experience, you know?"

"I heard that Professor Hodges has always been a representative at the trials."

"You think that he's going to go up against his daughter? Anyway, he wouldn't prosecute the Obscurial. He's too close. He's biased. He might not try his hardest."

"And maybe you would try too hard," Valadez countered. Danny swiveled his so he could look at the other, darker-skinned wizard, and realized he was already being looked back at. "What do you think they should do with him?" the other man asked.

"I don't know. Send him to MACUSA? Maybe they can give him some real security there."

"I hope that is not meant to be personal."

"It wasn't. I meant – I don't know, something more than two twenty-somethings with wands, minimal training, and a 8' by 10' room with bars."

"You think he needs that much security?"

"Well, yes! I mean, look at what he did to the school, to us, just because he was angry. He almost brought a chandelier down on our heads. And in here, look at what he made me –" he pulled up short.

Rafael slowly nodded, a curl of smoke coming out of his mouth as he exhaled. The light from the torch on the opposite wall cast a heiligenschein around his shadow on the wall, making it even more eerie. "I think I understand now, _amigo._ You never really hated him."

Danny groaned with his head against the stone wall. He didn't want to hear anymore.

"But you cannot just punish the boy for something you –"

"You know what?" Danny pushed himself up from against the wall. "I just need to do this, alright? You don't have to understand. It just needs to be me." He stocked off toward the stairs to tell Madam Blygull, leaving the figure alone with the sleeping Obscurial, smoke rising away from his shadowy form.

 **A/N: So, this last part was recently added. Originally, I had the scene where Ravina and Rafael were talking, but I thought it was better to show this particular part from Danny's perspective. I've been getting through these chapters pretty quickly which is why they are coming out so fast, but there will probably be a big gap coming up soon, unless I get this all up beforehand. Please review!**


	26. Chapter 26: A Threat to Society

Chapter 26: A Threat to Society

Tactless Rocky Hodges:

"Sit up," was the first thing he said to the slouching Obscurial. The boy obeyed, moving as if his body had been suddenly woken up.

The man knelt so as to be just below eye level. "Here is what's happening: In about ten minutes, you're going to be questioned by Mr. Dawson like those other people up there. Miss Ravina might cross-examine when he is done, but it really all depends how things turn out. How do you feel?

"I don't want to," the boy mumbled.

"Well, at least there's something you share with other wizards. Do you think you're guilty?"

The boy answered honestly, "I don't know." He could feel the eyes on him, the voices whispering about him. They were pecking, prodding, end over end, trying to figure something out that even he didn't understand.

Rocky watched as his face began to shrivel, "Have you ever spoken in public before?"

"No. When Ma would I would be there, but no one ever noticed me."

"Your mother –" the professor stopped himself. "Never mind. There's not much to it. Just try to only concentrate on the person asking the questions. Act like no one else is even in the room."

The child's mind shot forward to the gatekeeper's questions: _What did you want to do? What were you trying to do? What is_ it _to you?_ "I still don't want to."

"Unfortunately, you don't get a choice in the matter."

Wherever the words took him in his trial, the boy could only see one way it could all end up. The main professor would never let him remain under her roof. He remembered the long journey here with the cold and the hunger and the fear.

"Mr. Hodges?"

"Yes?" the professor answered.

"What happens if I'm guilty?"

"Well..." He debated. _Sensitivity,_ Ravina would say. "Professor Blygull will probably send you to MACUSA to be tried by a real court – you know what MACUSA is right?"

He shook his head.

"Magical Congress of the U.S.A., like the government for magical people here. They would do something like this but more official, decide if you are a threat to society or not."

The Obscurial shuddered involuntarily, "What if I am a threat to society?"

" _Credence –"_

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry -" he cowered under the harsh tone.

"It's alright. It's fine, now shut up!" Rocky waited for the boy to get a hold of himself. "You're not a threat to society, do you hear me? Not unless you believe you are. We have got lots of resources here, and I am not letting this go until we figure this out. I'm sure Ravina would not either. You won't be going anywhere until we have had something to say about it."

It was the closest thing Professor Hodges had ever said to _everything will be alright. You're not alone._ Nobody had ever done anything like that for him to his knowledge, save the then-stranger on the night of his arrival who had said _he's not a 'that', he's a 'he'._ These people weren't anything like Ma. They wouldn't turn him out if they knew what his Obscurus really was. Then again, no one could know for sure...

The small postern opened and long robes swished the floor. The regina made her way into the uplifted box.

"Mr. Hodges –" the boy started, but before he could continue the headmistress' voice called out:

"Witches and wizards, this informal hearing is back in session."


	27. 27: The Person Asking the Questions

Chapter 27: The Person Asking the Questions

"You know me, don't you, Credence?"

"I – yes."

"I remember you. That first night when you came to Ilvermorny, I was a guard at the door. Why did you come here?"

"I don't know..."

"You must have been set on getting here. You had to climb a mountain."

"I don't remember."

"Well, that seems a little hard to –"

"Objection, please. What does this have to do with anything?"

"Sustained. Mr. Dawson, I'm sure we would all like for this to be over as quickly as possible."

"...Yes, Madam Blygull. Credence, can you describe the events that took place right before the Obscurus Incursion on July 4th?"

The rhythmic clickety-clack of the unmanned typewriter suddenly grew quiet. The shaky breathing of the person in the chair was the only thing that could be heard. He could feel everyone in the room lean a collective few inches forward, like nifflers in sight of a jewel. They were hungry. He found the eyes of Ravina, who nodded encouragingly. The boy stared down at his trembling hands, "I was –" _Clickety-clack!_ The typewriter resumed with an echo.

" _Silencio!"_ Danny shot a it, and the keys became silent. "You were..."

"I was reading."

"In your room?"

"Yes."

"Then what?"

"I heard voices, outside the door."

"Whose voices?"

"Miss Ravina's, and... I think the other one was you." The boy looked up at the impassive form in the judge's panel. Professor Blygull didn't bat an eyelash.

"What were they saying?" Danny prodded. This interrogation was going too slowly.

"Professor Blygull was asking about, well, she was talking about what would happen if my Obscurus hurt anyone or... or killed anyone."

The attorney's ears pricked. "Killed anyone? Why was she worried about that? You've never wanted to use it to kill anyone?"

The haunted eyes cast downward, out of perception. "No."

"Right. What about when the Obscurus was trying to escape and dropped a chandelier on us when we wouldn't let it go? We could have died, you know."

If Daniel had thought he could corner a confession this way, he was disappointed. The boy started to speak, then fell silent again. No amount of prodding could coax out an answer. The wizard decided to leave it hanging in the air. "What happened after you heard them talking outside your door?"

"Miss Ravina came in. I got angry –"

"Why?"

He raised his eyes and Danny's breath caught, "Because everyone was lying to me."

The prosecutor found it hard to tear his gaze away. He collected himself, "What do you mean exactly?"

"No one told me that I was supposed to die. No one told me what they'd do if anything happened. I just... lost it." His breathing had quickened. So had Danny's. He was getting so close...

"That's interesting," he said, "Are you saying the choices weren't yours, that it had complete control over you? Or did you lose your self-control?"

"I don't know! It...it's just so hard sometimes, I don't always know which it is." The boy's voice broke and he buried his face in his hands.

The man hesitated. The sight of the crying child twisted something. He didn't want to cause another eruption in the middle of the trial. He had never wanted to break him. That had never been part of the plan.

Instinctively, his eyes turned back to the opposing table and people in pews. Ravina's body was about as tense as a deer after the shot of a gun. From behind, Professor Hodges had leaned forward in his seat, watching him falter like an appraiser, the way the amateur lawyer had done so many other times except for the one time that mattered.

And that was what hardened Daniel Dawson.


	28. Chapter 28: Stop Fighting

Chapter 28: Stop Fighting

The man rocked back forward on his toes and turned his attention to the boy, who had collected himself a bit, but was still trembling. "My colleague, Rafael Valadez has already testified," he said, "That he saw the Obscurus in June, and at that time it was very nearly invisible. However, he testified and I'm sure a lot of people hear can testify that on July 4th it was black and almost solid and you were nowhere to be seen. Can you explain that to us?"

"I don't know."

"You _don't know_ a lot of things."

"I..." the boy looked pallid. "I've never seen it. That time was different. I was gone. It was like... like I wasn't even there."

"You're saying that no part of you was in control at that time? It took you over completely?" Danny questioned. The Obscurial didn't answer. He leaned into the witness chair, "You don't think it was because you were angry?"

The boy just stared at him.

Danny waved his wand and transferred the dialogue from a few minutes ago onto the empty parchments in front of the jury. "You said that right before the attack you were angry at Miss Hodges, and at all of us. Don't you think that could possibly be what caused the transformation?"

The child's face had gone from anxiously pale to unnatural dull gray as he temporized, "I did?"

"Yes you did," Mr. Dawson said with certainty, really getting into it now. "You said that you were angry because everyone was lying to you about your Obscurus. Even Miss Hodges had been in on it, and she got you to trust her. That must have felt terrible, didn't it? Maybe you wanted to let her know how it felt? Maybe you wanted her to know exactly what she had done?"

"Objection!" Ravina's voice cried, "He's just guessing. He doesn't have any proof."

"I agree, speculation," Professor Blygull said, "But I am going to let him answer."

The boy struggled with himself, opening his mouth, then shaking his head and closing it. There seemed to be a silent battle going on inside him. But no one cared about that. His tormentor charged forward.

" _And,"_ he said, "While the Obscurus was destructive and violent before, it didn't cause any permanent damage until that night, when it broke through numerous security spells, nearly killed several wizards, and half destroyed the Transfiguration classroom. You were never on good terms with the teacher, Professor Ro, were you? Haven't you ever –" he wheeled to the audience and the jury, "– been so angry at someone that you just wanted to do something to them? Something to let them see how you were feeling, even if it meant hurting them? Tell me that's not what happened." He stared once again at the Obscurial.

The boy was ashen. "I didn't... I didn't..."

"Didn't what?" Dawson barked.

"I didn't hurt her, I know I didn't! _It_ wanted to! _It_ wanted to kill her!"

A wave of barely contained uproar leveled down from the crowd. Ravina, who had been trying to remain expressionless, swallowed a cry. Even Danny was stunned out of words for a minute.

Fortunately, and for once, the boy wasn't. "I never did that, I didn't! I kept it away. It does things I would never do. It gets in my head. I wasn't thinking. I couldn't fight. Please, I just want to stop fighting!"

With a final moan he crumpled, tears he had been holding back at last streaming from his eyes. The spectators were silent. The muscles in Ravina's legs ached from sitting still and not running forward to console her client – or slap Daniel Dawson, whichever came first.

Danny felt his mouth dry. So, that was all he had ever wanted, to stop fighting. This had been the child he had _crucio_ -ed, who had had to struggle for so long to simply live. And now here he was, attacking. He was just a sardonic, cruel cynic beating a dead dog.

"Nothing further," he managed, "Madam Blygull, can we have a five-minute recess?"

The professor unhooked her eyes from the Obscurial and came back to business, "Absolutely." The ivory gavel banged. Instant pandemonium burst free.

Ravina was out of her chair in an instant, intercepting the child as he finally managed to pull himself together enough to walk on unsteady legs out of the witness chair. She caressed him close for an instant, then, seeing Rocky, let him go and went up to the judge's box.

"Professor Blygull, does he have to stay here the rest of the trial?" she pleaded.

"That is the policy, but I think if Mr. Dawson agrees..."

Danny, only half listening, nodded shakily.

Professor Blygull turned to Rocky, "He is excused."

 **A/N: This chapter implies what I think about the Obscurial/Obscurus relationship, and could explain a few things about Fantastic Beasts. Did anyone else thing it was weird that Credence killed Henry Shaw just because the guy said something mean once? The reason for this could be the more bloodthirsty nature of the Obscurus, which feeds off of the pain of its host. This would also explain better why he was crying after Mary Lou Barebone's death, and Dumbledore's '** **dark** **twin' metaphor in TCOG. But I do think he would be able to control it if he** _ **really**_ **didn't want to hurt someone, like Ravina, in this case. And that's the working theory at the moment. Please review!**


	29. Chapter 29: What You Wanted

Chapter 29: What You Wanted

Rocky was out of his seat almost before the five-minute recess was called, hesitating just long enough to receive the OK from Professor Blygull, before grabbing the child by the arm and disapparating.

The two appeared on the far side of the castle, in a room normally used for study. The boy wilted onto a couch murmuring "Help me..." almost inaudibly.

His rescuer was too occupied to notice. In two strides he had made his way to the wide wooden door saying, _"Colloportus_." A _click_ sounded. Rocky moved sideways to stare out of the arched, multi-paned windows looking into the empty corridor, as if he was a watchman.

The boy continued to whimper from his seat, "Help me..."

"Stupid, stupid Dawson," the man muttered, "He went at it too hard. Could have had you take the whole castle out just to prove a point. Irresponsible kid, just like a Thunderbird. I thought he would have some common sense by now..."

"Please help me, please help me!" The child's voice had risen almost to a scream.

Professor Hodges took notice with a start. For a moment, he had gotten so myopic the child had slipped from his mind. "What? How do you want me to help you?"

But the Obscurial only seemed to be able to say two words. He repeated them over and over. "Help me... please help me..."

The professor ran his fingers through his thin white hair, pushing back frustration. He had taught eleven years of students how to banish boggarts with a single word, but he was still powerless with an Obscurial. It didn't seem fair. In this unfamiliar territory, he had to feel his way forward, only knowing what he saw and what this ten-year-old could tell him. ' _It's just so hard sometimes... I couldn't fight'._ The boy looked withered, spending all his energy attempting to keep himself within the realm of what people accepted; running himself into the ground; going and going until the balance tilted and the Obscurial dropped.

And that's when it hit him. Being pushed, they spent all their life energy trying to be something they were not, until there was nothing left but Obscurus. That was why they died so young.

"Stop," he said. When nothing happened, he grabbed the shivering child's shoulders violently, "Listen to me. Nothing is going to happen if you keep pushing it down. That's what did this to you in the first place. Just stop fighting. You said that was what you wanted."

"I can't."

Rocky rolled his eyes as if it were a quip, "Merlin's sake, why not? We're far away from everyone. No one has to know. I can always repair the damage." He drew his wand from his coat pocket.

The child hesitated, "I don't want to hurt you."

"You won't." Rock stood up, "Trust me."

The Obscurial stared at him for a long minute. At first, nothing changed, except for his shaking stilled. The wizards saw his eyes glaze over, his profile blur. And then the world turned black as boiling tar.

Desecration ensued. Chairs and tables were toppled and stone was crushed into flour. The professor found himself to be the eye of a hurricane that swirled into volutes around him, so close that he could have lost his hand if he had reached inside. But they never touched. As the monster tore to shreds another Ilvermorny classroom, the professor's eyes fell to the floor.

 **A/N: Man, it's been a while since I published. By now you can probably tell that I like my Fantastic Beasts call-backs. Again, this is like the what-could-have-happened-if-so-and-so-wasn't-so-evil scene. Also, this is basically my explanation for the Obscurial's short lifespan, which would explain why Credence's great power allowed him to survive, though I'm still not sure if that's the full explanation. Only time will tell. Please review! Do you prefer longer time between chapters?**


	30. Chapter 30: How Things Turn Out

Chapter 30: How Things Turn Out

Ravina sat in diffidence. Her part of the argument was over. The child was beside her again, come back for the ruling. He looked a little better, not quite so ghostly as when she had last seen him, but still had those floor-fascinated eyes with anxious creases. He hadn't gotten an opportunity to see what she thought of him after that spontaneous confession – which the whole castle knew about now. He could barely stand to sit still, wondering what everybody was thinking about him, especially her. Unfortunately, there wasn't really much choice. The jury was coming in.

People took their seats and muttered theories amongst themselves. The jury followed the judge as she came out a different door into the trial room. The young defender peered at the faces of her collogues, but most of them kept their eyes down, or glanced only at the Obscurial. That couldn't be good – or maybe it was. Mr. Dawson, late once again, hurriedly made his way to his table.

Professor Blygull spoke: "The jury has a verdict?" All eyes turned to the young redhead, Ms. Weasley, who now stood with a thin piece of parchment held to her chest.

"Yes, Madam," she began in her soft British accent. Ravina took the child's hand. One by one the accusations were listed: Destructive and threatening behavior, general intent, possession of Dark Magic - not guilty, not guilty, not guilty.

Murmurs of disapproval broke out all over the trial room. Even Ravina found herself shocked. Surely, he would be convicted of at least the last one...

"But," Ms. Weasley's voice rang out over the noise, "The jury does find the _Obscurus_ in question guilty of all accusations."

Real chaos broke out now. Professor Blygull had to rap hard with her erumpent-horn gavel. "In light of this... unorthodox ruling," she said, sounding rather flustered, "I am going to adjourn for an additional ten minutes to think things over."

As soon as she was gone the noise erupted again.

The Obscurial turned to Ravina, panic making him forget his scruples.

"Don't worry," she said, seeing the expression on his face. "I don't understand either, but it could be worse. You weren't guilty... exactly."

The boy slouched back into his chair and tried not to listen to the many voices discussing him in the background. This was difficult, since most of the questions being thrown about were ones he had himself. How could they convict an Obscurus without convicting the Obscurial? Were they going to try and remove it from him? That thought made him grow cold. If they could do that, surely they would have done it by now. Even so, he shivered. The noise was growing louder. Angry people seemed to have forgotten the guilty-Obscurus ruling and were shouting protests at the jury. _You don't know what that thing is like... It dangerous... It's out of control._ The Obscurial put his hands over his ears.

" _Lumos Colorum,"_ Ravina whispered. She handed the glowing wand over to the boy, who took it in odd fascination. The tip had become a hypnosis rainbow, colors fading in and out before he could even comprehend what they were.

Rocky Hodges watched from his seat a row or two behind. He remembered when Ravina had made up that spell. _Fluff,_ he had called it at the time. Nice thing to have on hand now. Now if only his mind could be distracted so easily. He wondered if there would ever be occasion to mention that little destructive episode in the study room a couple of hours ago.

The headmistress seated herself once again, looking none too pleased. Ravina breathed deeply a couple of times to keep her shoulders from tensing. The noise quieted down after a few icy looks. Professor Blygull began:

"I have decided what I am going to do with you, Credence. First I need to make something absolutely clear. You are dangerous. To be a wizard is to be dangerous, and the Obscurus is an apparition more destructive than any wizard. Under most circumstances, that alone would be enough to not allow me in good conscience to let you remain at my school. But these are a bit different. I cannot send you back to your home, and, whatever could have happened, no one in this school was actually _injured_ in the Obscurus Incursion. Also, you have shown that you have some control over the Obscurus, whether you believe it or not. That shows some promise in a wizard as powerful as yourself. I am going to allow you to stay here, perhaps even let you attend the school. But the Obscurus was convicted and that is what is going receive the discipline. You are going to have to prove, before the end of the summer, that either the Obscurus has left, or you are able to keep it under control. If not, I will have to contact MACUSA. Is that clear?"

The Obscurial hesitated, then nodded dumbly.

"Fine," the professor adjusted her gaze to the entire assemblage, "This informal hearing is concluded."

 **A/N: Don't worry, there's more. Who knows, it might have been unrealistic for them not to convict him, but I think convicting the Obscurus but not the Obscurial is a fair compromise, especially after what he said. The hot water is still boiling, especially since there's quite a bit of story left. Please review!**


	31. Chapter 31: A Talk with Him

Chapter 31: A Talk with Him

The jury members, hodgepodge spectators, and upper crust faculty members made their way out of the trial room. From the outside, their anxious steps and excited voices made them look like a small brigade of bees flying away from the hive. Ravina hung back with the Obscurial, waiting for her father to cut his way through the current of impedimenta. She handed the boy her colorful, glowing wand again. "Are you OK?"

He nodded slowly, staring fixatedly down at it so he wouldn't have to look up into her worried eyes. He had been enough trouble already.

Amid the skimble-scamble of noise as the three of them made their way out along with everyone else, the young woman heard someone call her name. Her feet halted in spite of herself. This was just the dilly thing she needed; though she had been trying to speak with him only earlier that day, she _really_ wasn't in the mood after seeing him go at the child on the stand. Rocky misinterpreted her hesitation and moved around so that he could guide the Obscurial out of the room.

"You wanted to have a talk with him first," he answered her attempted correction.

She was stuck.

Dawson waited until most everybody had filed out. He remained leaning against his desk easily like those cool Thunderbirds all Ilvermorny students had spent their childhoods trying to imitate. Ravina remained too. The look she gave when everyone was all out of the room seemed to spell out all the condemning thoughts she had saved up while he had been going through his case.

"I didn't think you could do it," he started, "Win the case, I mean."

"Neither of us really won," she replied, "Besides, that's not really the point. We were trying to help Credence – anyway, that's what I was doing."

Danny ignored her, "I can tell you really love him. I know that's why you took on the defense role even though you have absolutely no experience. Just tell me why."

She hadn't been expecting something so blunt. Her nose twitched as she struggled for an answer, finally falling back on the truth. "He needs me."

He nodded, looking like he had not long ago while hearing the information out of the witnesses. The boldness he had asked with gave her the audacity to continue, "And why do you hate him?"

The superior air disappeared in a second. "I don't _hate_ him," he mumbled, "I just don't like what he does to people."

"What do you mean, what he _does_ to people?"

Danny heard Rafael's voice in his head- _You never hated him –_ at the same time as majorly regretting his answer _._ "Forget it," he backpedaled, "You wouldn't understand. I'll see you, I guess, Miss Hodges."

 **A/N: This chapter was a scene I added later in the process. I really wanted some things to be explained and foreshadowed, but it did give me a lot of trouble. And it's still really short. This is the end of Part 3. There is a Part 4, but it's not so long. Please review!**


	32. Chapter 32: A Representative of MACUSA

Part 4

Free Behind Bars

Chapter 32: A Representative of MACUSA

MACUSA did hear about it through an innocent looking reporter that nobody had noticed at the trial. Professor Blygull managed to keep them mostly at bay, with a lot of rehashing of the rules of school hearings. The Congress contented themselves with sending a single Auror to investigate the situation. The man was young and dapper; didn't speak loudly but had an authoritative attitude that commanded obedience. Professor Hodges muttered prophetically to his daughter that he could see this upstart being the head of something one day.

"Percival Graves," he said, first thing, "Where's the Obscurial?"

Mr. Graves was as business a thirty-year-old as they come, but when he was led into the chamber to see the recently-acquitted, his manner softened. Rocky couldn't tell if it was just a show to put the boy at ease or if he really felt sorry for him, but regardless, this dark-haired Auror didn't seem quite so scary in the Obscurial's room. Ravina couldn't help being slightly resentful that Mr. Graves managed to get more information out of him on his first conversation than she and Rocky combined that first night at Ilvermorny. She comforted herself thinking that them still being in the room had something to do with it. The questions felt like the ones at the trial, but less climatic, fortunately. Rocky's déjà vu wasn't what made him nervous.

After fifteen very long minutes, the Auror came out of the boy's room with Professor Hodges. He was back to business.

"I am a representative of a government of our society," he began, "This is just a school. Keeping someone as high-risk as him here without notifying any authority was a trial waiting to happen. You can be sure I will remind Professor Blygull of this."

"And Professor Blygull can remind you that the child was not actually convicted of anything."

"Still, an Obscurial is a threat to wizard security."

By now, the sixty-year-old was getting sick of this Auror's condescension. "Is that what you think after talking with him, or are you just speaking as a representative of MACUSA?"

"I didn't say anything about what I think; it's what the rules say, and rules trump my opinion. I'm sure a professor like yourself can understand that."

Rocky just stared, wondering if, a few months ago, he would have been arguing with this logic or been the one giving it.

Mr. Graves gazed down at the end of his long peacoat. Even though there was no one else in the hall, when he spoke it was in a voice almost as low as a whisper, "Actually, if you want my opinion, it doesn't seem like there's anything inherently bad about him. His power has an extraordinary amount of potential, which is why I am going to allow Professor Blygull's decision to remain. But you have to understand how short his leash is. I've already given more leeway than is probably wise, so if he breaks that trust in any way it is your responsibility to contact me at MACUSA so we can make further arrangements."

The professor noted the glimmer of sympathy he knew Mr. Graves was trying to hide in his voice. Good, he was afraid that softening at the hands of a young, shy Obscurial meant he was losing his touch.

"He does not seem like a killer to you, then?" he prodded.

"No. But," the Auror's eyes hardened again, "They never do."

 **A/N: I hope everyone is well aware by now that I like my Fantastic Beasts callbacks. Considering there are so few actual JK Rowling characters in this fan fiction, I think we all deserve a little scene like this every once in a while. So, this is how I imagine the younger/real Percival Graves. He's an Auror now, but not head of security yet the way he is in the movie. He looked roughly fortyish there, so I thought he'd be about thirtyish in 1914. I know I'm not the first to write about the real Percival Graves, but I'm glad it's being theorized upon because we probably won't get to see him in the movies. Please review!**


	33. Chapter 33: Feel Free

Chapter 33: Feel Free

Eight days under lock and key had taken its toll. When the Obscurial got back to his room for the first time since the trial, he withdrew, like an owl from light. The Hodges first thought that it was just the shock of everything wearing off, but a couple days of nibbling at his food, responding in one-word answers, and a metathical use of _Olahomora_ instead of _Alohomora_ (which he hadn't done since first learning the word) got Rocky to take measures to Professor Blygull.

Convincing her took less time than he had been afraid of. Being treated like a prisoner, and actually _being_ a prisoner for a week weren't exactly the best ways to get someone to relax and trust you. Also, though staying in his room all the time wasn't exactly mandatory, it had been an unwritten rule ever since his arrival that the boy was not to go poking around where he wasn't wanted in the school – which was basically everywhere. The old professor and older witch spent a good long while hashing out the details of the new plan, but eventually came to an agreement. The Obscurial had been acquitted. He had a month before the school year began. Might as well be given the best chance he could hope for.

It was odd to watch the expression on the boy's face change when he was told about it. Something like a mixture between caution, confusion, and anticipation all fighting for his eye-space.

"You want me to... go out?" he repeated.

Rocky watched, amused at the amazement. "It's not anything special really. You've had a little time on your hands when we're not practicing magic. I'm just saying that we want you to feel free to get out of this room for a change. Explore the castle, maybe get to know some people. It couldn't hurt your persona if people actually saw _you_ more than a black, whirling monster."

 _Freedom_ was not a concept familiar to the young boy. Running away from home was one thing, but at the time he had been trying to survive more than anything else. Living with Mary Lou Barebone, his childhood had been one long list of things he couldn't do, till the pressure got so intense that magic exploded from his fingertips. At Ilvermorny, he'd been put in a room, and then a cell.

Actually being told to go out and do whatever he wanted left him feeling a bit lost.

The next day, his wooden door creaked open reluctantly. The ornate without someone bigger accompanying them. It felt strange; forbidden. But it wasn't forbidden.

The child raised his arms to face level so he could rest them against the railing of the balcony that overlooked the entrance from the reserved rooms. Two people were down there, like always. Wands out, leaning against the twin, stained-glass windows. He really hoped they didn't see him.

Raising his eyes, he saw the repaired chandelier hanging from a ceiling not to far above. The light from the little hanging diamonds probably made his face look like it was broken into about five pieces. At least _it_ wasn't broken anymore. He had been told that a good deal of _reparo_ was needed to even get the pieces close enough together that they could be reassembled into the former shape. Well, at least that part hadn't been his fault...exactly.

If he squinted hard so that his vision was blurred and blocking out most of the light, he could make the chandelier look just like it had through his Obscurus on that night; bleary and distorted. He shut his eyes now and swallowed hard. There had been people under that thing, people he had wanted to get rid of just so he could escape. Even then, under a black cloud, couldn't he have controlled it enough to keep that from happening? It was so selfish, so savage, so –

He didn't spend much time on that balcony.

 **A/N: In the Crimes of Grindelwald, we kind of see what Credence does when he gets off the hook from Mary Lou's iron thumb. In the movies, though, he still doesn't really have any good influences or a safe environment (unless you count what Grindelwald has to offer, which I don't), so the circumstances and actions are less than ideal. Here we get a much more innocent look at freedom, and more in the next chapter. Please review!**


	34. Chapter 34: Explore the Castle

Chapter 34: Explore the Castle

The school was ginormous. It surpassed every magical academy in the world except _maybe_ Hogwarts. Every American student east of the Mississippi came if they were accepted. And not a knut was saved on luster. The small ten-year-old felt a little overwhelmed in the great, American-sized castle. At first he stayed close. He visited the atelier where Ravina worked as one of the professor's secretaries, though to a casual observer it probably looked more like a closet. Papers, reminders, and notes were strewn all over the tiny space; a little unusual for one who was supposed to keep the teachers organized. It would be a lie to say that her father hadn't pulled a few strings to get her the job, and that she hadn't gotten exceptionally talented at the cleaning charm in order to keep it.

After a time, the boy began to venture downstairs, to the primary level of Ilvermorny. As many classrooms as were on the upper level was mirrored on the bottom floor, along with the extraordinary dining hall, the whole-school assembly chamber, and the Sorting Round. The unsure child never went near the Sorting Round if he could help it.

Students who went to Ilvermorny mostly came from long-lived pure-blood families who had brought up their children of stories of this school till they could draw up a multi-floor map of the place without even stepping foot inside. Not to mention the number of No-Maj-borns was so few – only about 3%, people speculated. This wasn't surprising considering the marriage of a No-Maj to a wizard or witch was against American law. Unintentionally, this caused some of the wonder of the castle to be lost on incoming students. On sight of a puckwudgie in the garden one might say, "Hey, I wonder if that's the same one my pa practiced levitation spells on," and think nothing of it. First glimpsing one of the spikey creatures pruning a velutinous finger-snapping plant through the window, the Obscurial nearly had a heart attack. And this wasn't the only culture-shock. It seemed that alongside moving pictures, the wizards also had talking portraits. One spoke to him just outside of the Thunderbird common room; a boy in his teens, with an English accent, riding atop a magnificent, four-winged bird. There was a whole hallway dedicated to more simple paintings of previous headmasters and headmistresses that initiated a surplus of chatter. The child soon realized that his arrival and trial had become the main form of discussion for these inanimate likenesses.

"I know who you are," One, Professor Cuadros, said, "You're that boy – Clarence –"

"It's –" he started, but Esau Primus growled:

"Shut your tiny mouth and don't talk back to your elders. I wouldn't have stood for it I was still in charge."

The boy instinctively shut up.

"Oh, don't mind him," a plump, middle aged lady said as he backed against the opposite wall.

"Is it true then? That you're an Obscurial?" the first questioner asked.

"I keep tellin' ya, Cuadros," the lady interrupted before he could answer, "Those only existed back in _your_ time, isn't that right Sweetie?"

The Obscurial managed to untangle himself from all the questions and escaped down a side hallway. He wouldn't have been surprised anymore if the gold candelabrum on the mantle came to life. Mr. Clihf had once described the portrait chamber as "a long list of strong personalities stuck together for a hundred years" before swearing that he would never seek the job of headmaster. The boy never went down that hallway again.

 **A/N: So this was a fun little scene. I thought something a bit more lighthearted was in order after, well, the whole thing. Especially considering the next chapter. Almost everything I said about Ilvermorny came out of my own head and not JK Rowling's, except, maybe, the puckwudgie bit. The names of those portrait headmasters was real creative there. Expect more background themes. Please review!**


	35. Chapter 35: Something Sad

Chapter 35: Something Sad

While there were a couple of places that the young explorer avoided like the plague, none was he so serious about as Ilvermorny's personal hoosegow. At least, he tried to be.

"Why did you bring me here?" His panicked voice reverberated against the chasm-like walls.

"We're sorry. It was the only place they would let us." Ravina, who was waiting for them, said.

The boy disconnected himself from Rocky's arm and scrooched away from the barred cells as if they contained an angry Nundu. Ravina stared at her father in high dudgeon.

"I _did_ tell him we were going to do something different in a new place today," Rocky growled, "Might have left out a few details..."

Ravina bent down and put her hands on the boy's shoulders to steady him. She waited till he would look into her eyes, "It's the ruling."

A squeak and a little click; Ravina's wand glowed radiant as she muttered the cell-unlocking spell that Rafael had taught her.

The Obscurial was still caught in what had been said a moment before. "You want me to transform on purpose?"

"It appears that the two options are either to remove the magical parasite or teach you to control it, so that it will no longer be a threat to the school," Rocky said, "Since no one knows if it is even possible to remove an Obscurus, we decided to take the easy route. If you can transform and transform back while you're in that form, then that should be enough to pacify the superiors."

"Professor Blygull said it would," his daughter added, "But only if we practice in here."

It took a lot of coaxing, but they finally managed to convince the Obscurial to step inside the cell and have the door closed behind him with _"carcelero amigable"._ As an added precaution, the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher had a shield put as a wall on the outside of the bars.

"What do I do?" the Obscurial implored.

The Hodges made uncertain eye contact.

"Don't you know?" Ravina asked.

He looked down at his shoes. "Usually it just sort of... happens."

The Defense professor riffled through his mental library of advice for a second. "Think of something that normally sets it off," he finally said, "Try thinking of something sad."

Something sad? The irony was so heavy it was almost funny. Try thinking of something that wasn't sad, now that would be the challenge. Something sad was in his shoes that he had worn when they were too small because Ma had spent the money on a new bonnet for Chastity, in his legs that had never run outside to play like other boys his age and instead had been locked away under watchful eye lest he misbehave, in his body, neglected and thin from years of malnutrition, and in his hands, still with lines in them from the broken switch that had torn their flesh. A poet could versify every week of his life and still have something sad at the end to write about. A creature who fed on it could be sustained for a lifetime. That would be a fun time when he would have to try and think of something sad.

The outsiders watched as his body crumble away, taken by the parasitic hamartia. Neither spoke. This Obscurus wasn't like the normal one that smashed up rooms and broke through solid rock like a tornado. This one barely moved. It swirled limply in a cloud like being weighed down by heavy rain.

Ravina was as close as she dared go with the shield. "Please," she whispered.

Her father looked at her sharply, "No!"

"He's not dangerous like this."

"You don't want to aggravate it."

"He wouldn't do anything to me. He knows me. Look at how calm he is."

The old man cast his tired eyes at the Obscurus, which was floating slowly to the stone block which had once served its host for a cot, as if it needed something to cling to. He remembered the spinning hurricane it had been on Trial Day, and how it had destroyed everything but the small area around him.

Ravina slipped through the open door. The Obscurus had become like a curtain on the wall, falling down in layers, pulled by gravity.

"Credence," she said.

It rippled, like a person's face when they hear their name, and the blackness seemed to vivify at her voice.

She smiled, "Can you see me?"

Rocky observed the Obscurus through the bars. So close to his youngest daughter. It didn't _seem_ violent... now...

Ravina's hand went out.

"Stop," Rocky said instantly.

"Daddy, it's perfectly safe."

"Every recorded instance of anyone ever touching an Obscurus has ended in death," he said through gritted teeth.

"How many of those was the Obscurus like this?" she asked. "It's fine. He's not going to hurt me."

The youngest Hodges' arm rose again to the black curtain. Her father's wand-hand grew white. Ravina hesitated for a second, then plunged her hand inside.

A rush – an iron fist – out of body – years of bricks on her chest. She found herself in a house she had never been, with stinging pain searing through her palms. She heard the word 'freak' crackling through every crevice and corner. A horrible, cold emptiness consumed her.

Ravina stumbled backward from the wall, nearly tripping on her stiletto heel. Professor Hodges' wand flashed to the defense, but there wasn't really any need. The Obscurus had begun to sink again. It swirled and bent and at last collected itself into the boy that had started all the trouble. Two tears had already rolled down his cheeks by the time he reformed. Rocky was surprised to see that his daughter was crying as well.

He asked, "What happened?"

The child buried his face into her long, black coat – the dungeon was perpetually hibernal. Ravina lifted her shining eyes. "I saw," she whispered.

"Saw what?" Then he understood. It was unlike anything that an Obscurus had ever been known to do. But then again, by his own lips, no one had ever touched one and survived before.

The Obscurial himself was slowly fading. Black smoke began to emanate from him as he clung to Ravina.

"Go. It's ok," she said. He fell away, succumbing to the empty hole. The woman felt the blackness pull at her heartstrings as she realized what it was. The door swung closed. Rocky's wand hung suspended in his hand but the force field did not reappear. The two of them observed, silent. The Obscurus shifted and changed, like a black cloth in water. Ravina was in deep thought; hypnotized.

"Love," she finally said.

Her father, ever the DADA professor, responded, "The strongest form of magic."

"That's what's missing. It's a void where love should be. It gobbles up anything it can get its hands on because it's just a big hole of emptiness. If we give him love, maybe he can be saved."

Rocky chewed on this, "It was always said to be the result of suppressed magic."

"Yes, maybe, but there's more. The magic is what brings it to life, I think. But that hole would still be there, even if he weren't a wizard."

They stood together, silent, watching the sorrowful chasm slip and fold; lost in thought as they were. Whatever terrible emotion they had faced in their long or short respective lifetimes – the pain of the professor's lost wife, his daughter's lost mother – was so small as to be contained in their hearts and their bodies. They could not comprehend a pain that overflowed as this one did and took on a living form. And in so young a child too.

"We have to save him," Ravina said, "We can do it. He can lead a normal life."

Rocky took in his daughter's expression: so young and full of hope and innocence. "If God and his peers permit," he answered.

 **A/N: This is a really long chapter, for me anyway. I felt like the scene couldn't be broken up though, it really needs to stay together. Ok, there's a lot to talk about. The Obscurus here I imagined looking like it did that one time in FB, in the train tunnel when Newt is talking to it. Like a really heavy, bunchy curtain. And then when it's hanging in the air it looks like the one Newt has in his case. So I noticed that, in the movies, no one has (yet) touched the Obscurus and not died, which got me to thinking, does simply touching it cause one to die? That didn't seem very likely. I thought it would be cool if when a person touched it they saw things from the perspective of the owner. There is absolutely no evidence to back this up – there's just not any evidence** _ **contradicting**_ **it either. I think Ravina's explanation of what the Obscurus was is pretty in line with what we know from the movies. There's only one more scene! Expect a long Author's Note after that one too. Please review!**


	36. Chapter 36: A Few Details

Chapter 36: A Few Details

They apparated to the dungeon almost every day in the subsequent two fortnights. During free hours, Ravina spent more time than ever in the Obscurial's room, going through the past ten years, how it all came to be. He told her things he hadn't thought he would tell anyone: his mother's name, Mary Lou Barebone, and how she wasn't really his mother, but the only parent he had ever known. Where he used to live in New York, the Second Salem church. For the first few months at Ilvermorny, he had always been afraid they would find out all those things and send him back. No one but maybe Miss Ravina really knew what it was like there. However, the ruling of Professor Blygull seemed to give no intention of that, and Ravina swore that she would never use the information in any way that he didn't want. It felt good to trust somebody for once. If only he could bring himself to tell her _the_ thing – what he had almost begun to tell Mr. Hodges at the trial but then been cut off. In hindsight, it was a relief. Some secrets he didn't even want to think about himself, much less share.

Fortunately, he didn't have to. The Obscurial's days were so incrusted with magic and parasite and emotion that he didn't have time to be lonely. With the professor in the dungeon he slowly learned how to 'let go' of his Obscurus and allow it to take him over. Even slower he learned how to bring it back in without help. As four weeks turned to three and then to two, Rocky felt confidence growing, much to his surprise. Perhaps a part of him had never really acknowledged that an Obscurial could master himself to the point of being fit for society. Yet even Professor Blygull couldn't deny as the school year rushed upon them that no mindless cloud of uncontrollable destruction was threatening the school now.

The air sometimes threatened a chill. High up on the mountain, summer's sun beat down very clearly most days, but recently Daniel or Rafael had been able to spot a cloud or two when they looked out of the window. The boy felt it too, since he was now allowed to go outside. Summers were short in the Massachusetts mountains.

A week or so before the school year's start, teachers and staff began to arrive. All the goldbricks, as the castle-stayers called them, who had been at home enjoying the break with their families, got enthusiastically filled in. The preparation week hadn't had this much excitement in living memory.

In waving wands and saying spells, the black, shapeless monster hadn't shown itself outside of the dungeon since Rocky and the Obscurial in the study room on Trial Day. That was the last thing that convinced Professor Blygull. She casually mentioned to Ravina in a hallway about the need to borrow some extra robes for the new student. Ravina was ecstatic. The Obscurial was nervous. He had never really been to school, much less a boarding school. And whatever he had learned to do, the Obscurus was not gone, and maybe never would be. He couldn't forget the conversation he had heard which had instigated the trial, about how Obscurials never lived past ten. That was how old he was; early for a wizard to be starting school. Maybe they had some intelligence, some inkling, that he might not even make it to the end of the year. But he couldn't go back, even if he wanted to. Forward was the only option. Back held only his family – the one who probably wanted to kill him. Forward was Ilvermorny School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, the real thing. If they could make it without a single death.

 **A/N: The end! Of this first part, anyway. I don't know how much I've mentioned it, but this story I split up into three parts. The first one's called Summer Trials, and you just finished it. The next part is where we actually get to see Credence attend the school of Ilvermorny, which is, I'm sure, what most people thought this would be when they clicked on it. Unfortunately, I haven't written it yet. I hope to be done by the fall, but not sure exactly when. Please stick around! I loved all the reviews and encouraging comments, they just warmed my heart.**

 **I don't know if anyone picked up on this, but every chapter title is something Rocky has said. Also, I never use Credence's name in the narrative. Just some fun things I threw in there. Please review!**


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